What happens in Topeka Um wait, WHAT happened?
by TigerLily888
Summary: A drunken one night stand leads to consequences Emily and Hotch never imagined. A borderline crack fic with lots of team interaction.
1. Chapter 1

**So I really, really should be writing My Dark Duke but this fic - our HotLy prompt challenge for March/April "Psycho Beth" - won't let go of my muse until it was written. It's a multi chapter, so no Beth as yet in case you're wondering. Anyhow, tell me what you think! I do hope you like it cos I sure had fun writing! Unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine.**

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><p><em>This story is a work of fiction by an amateur writer and is for entertainment purposes only. The writer is in no way associated with Criminal Minds nor anyone connected to the program. No Copyright infringement is intended and no monetary compensation has been received by the creation of this story.<em>

_All publicly recognized characters and storylines are owned by The Mark Gordon Company, Paramount/Viacom, Touchstone Television, CBS Television Studios, ABC Studios, and their related entities._

_All original characters, settings and/or storylines are Copyright protected.__ Any duplication or distribution of this story, in whole or in part, expressly prohibited without written consent of the Author._

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><p>The muffled sound of laughter from outside drifted into the room and slowly filtered into her subconsciousness, making Emily stir. A dull throb in her temples heralded her arrival into wakefulness and she winced at the dryness in her throat. Groaning, she threw an arm over her eyes to shield them from the thin shaft of sunlight piercing through the gap in the drapes that appeared intent on causing her mortal injury if the sharp stab of pain in her head was any indication.<p>

_Oh God..._ Why had she done this to herself yet again? It had been bad the morning after her last girls' night out but _this_. This was like the grand canyon of hangovers. She slowly turned over onto her back, holding her breath as the pounding in her temples increased its intensity before settling down. What the hell even happened last night? Vague memories surfaced. Oh, right. The whole team had travelled to Topeka for Gina's wedding. As an added bonus to Agent Sharpe's surprisingly classy wedding reception, there was an open bar which, Emily, being herself, felt the need to take advantage of, assisted by Morgan betting that he could beat her in any drinking stakes that night.

She swallowed a moan at the memory. Why had she even fallen for that? She was 42, not 14. Not that it was any excuse, but all of them had been a little more motivated than usual to have a drink to drown out the horrific details of their last case. Seeing bodies of kidnapped and abused children were not really conducive to a festive mood. She seemed to remember seeing Hotch down more than a few single malts with Dave. And not that she could have sworn to it, but she even thought she had seen him _sans_ tie at the end of the evening, the top button of his dress shirt unbuttoned. Hotch had looked kinda hot.

Ha, who was she kidding. He had looked _really_ hot. But that was the alcohol speaking, of course. She was pretty sure she had been well over the legal limit in relation to blood alcohol level at the time. In fact it was more likely that she had been verging on alcohol poisoning seeing that she was a woman who can hold her liquor and Hotch unbuttoned was pretty much the last clear-ish memory she had. _Please God, let me not have done anything stupid after that._ Like the time she had gotten up on stage and tried to sing when she was nowhere near a karaoke club or another time when she apparently told some butt-ugly loser that she'd meet him in the bathroom after she had just one more pina colada. That's what JJ and Pen said had happened anyhow. It seems she wasn't the most discerning of people under the influence.

But nothing like that could have happened last night. JJ and Garcia had been there. They had her back. Oh man... She really needed to go to the bathroom. Her bladder was on the point of bursting and she thought someone had taken a dump in her mouth. Crap, if she had been _that_ far gone last night, she was going to have to shoot herself. But first, the bathroom.

Emily sat up slowly, groaning softly as the pain intensified. When her body finally acclimated to its almost vertical position and she had focused on what was before her, two things struck her simultaneously.

One, she was naked. As in, as the day she was born. Two, there were clothes scattered _everywhere_ in the room.

Oh shit. Was that a _fricking_ pair of crimson boxer-briefs on the _fricking_ lampshade? _Shit, shit, shit!_

Emily froze a split second later when the full impact of the boxer-briefs' presence in the room hit her with all the delicacy of a ten-ton semi-trailer. She slowly, oh so very, very, slowly, turned to her left.

Lying on his stomach next to her, head turned away, in all his naked glory – well, almost naked glory, a sheet lay precariously low over his nicely toned buttocks (hey, she was a federal agent, she couldn't help her keen observation skills even in a severely hung over state) – was a man. And what a man he was, with his lean and sinewy frame, sleek muscles in his back and fine, fine arms. Upper arms anyhow. Emily couldn't see his forearms which were currently buried under the pillow he was lying on. A sudden flashback of forearms generously sprinkled with dark hair banded tight around her waist as she rode him, back against his front, appeared in her mind in high definition, complete with x-rated sound effects. She barely held back a gasp.

Fricking hell.

She stared at the small mole under his shoulder blade which was shaped incongruently, and rather adorably, like a tiny daisy, while her mind desperately tried to recall the events from last night. Who the hell had she hooked up with? Unfortunately, the harder she tried to picture his face, the more her head throbbed. Gingerly, she got off the bed, but before she could walk around to the other side of the bed to check out his face, her bladder gave her a not so gentle reminder that she needed to get to the bathroom stat.

After she did her business, she quickly used the toothbrush that was sitting in the glass together with the toothpaste. From her single flashback she was pretty sure they'd exchanged spit at the very least. A few more germs won't make any difference. She looked at the dark grey toiletries bag that sat on the counter. She barely paused before opening it. Packed neatly within were a strangely familiar smelling aftershave, floss, electric shaver, deodorant, comb, super hold hair gel (really?) and Advil. Nothing that gave her a clue about who she had done the horizontal – and possibly vertical – mambo with. Except for the fact that he appeared to be somewhat obsessive about neatness. And the fact that his hair had to be tamed at all costs. Hmm... two things they already had in common, and that didn't even include the apparently mind-blowing sex they had last night. Granted, she was extrapolating that last bit from the one and only four-second flashback she had gotten.

For God's sake, Emily, _focus_! Maybe she could look for his wallet and find out who he is. Yeah, that was a good idea. Just as she was about to open the bathroom door, however, she heard a buzz. What the... Looking around, she saw what looked like her cell on the floor near the wastepaper basket. Oh lord, it probably slid out of her clutch during the wild, passion-fuelled clothing removal stage last night.

Emily picked it up. Yep, it _was_ her cell because Garcia's beaming face was staring up at her from the small screen.

"PG?" she whispered, looking up. She grimaced as she finally took a proper look at herself in the mirror. Holy cow. There were hickeys galore on her collarbone and upper chest and she had epic whisker burns on both breasts. _In addition_ to the ones on her inner thighs. Yeah, that had been the first thing she had seen when she sat down on the toilet. The details from last night were fuzzy to say the least, but she thought Mr Tall, Dark and Well Endowed – she was also rather sore – had been very gifted in the oral stakes. Damn it. Another reason why she _had_ to remember.

"Em? Where the living supercomputers are you?" Garcia's voice was loud and excitable. Emily winced.

"I don't know. In one of the hotel rooms. I think." _I hope_, she added silently to herself. Damn, she really, really had to stop drinking this much.

"What? You don't know where you are?" came the incredulous reply. Garcia suddenly gasped. "Oh no. Please tell me you're alone. That you spent the night alone."

"What? Why?" A sinking feeling appeared in her stomach, causing the mild nausea she was already feeling to worsen. "Who was I with last night?"

"You weren't with anyone. But there was this complete dickwad redneck who spent the entire evening trying to get into your pants." Her friend sounded disgusted.

Emily blinked, an image of a tall, dark-haired man in a buff Stetson appearing in her mind's eye. He _could_ be the guy in the bed. But somehow she didn't think so. Call it a gut feeling. And her gut feeling was never wrong.

"E, you're not with him, are you? Please tell me you're not."

"I'm not." Emily paused. "But I'm uh...with someone else. He's asleep," she added.

"WHAT! WHO?" Garcia practically shouted into the phone, causing Emily to stifle a moan at the pain that her voice summoned.

"I don't know!"

"Oh God, I knew I should never have left you behind. Well, are you sure it's not Mr Jackass-in-a-Stetson?"

"No, it's not him. I didn't see a hat in the room. And I would not have hooked up with a cowboy."

"Well, whoever he is, I suggest you get out of there quick smart, missy. You know what you're like when you're drunk, so it's completely possible it's him. Trust me, if it's the cowboy, you do _not_ want to be there when he wakes up. He's a dick! So c'mon, Em! Chop chop!"

The urgency in Garcia's voice was making her nervous. "Okay, okay! I'm going! I'll just get my clothes and I'll see you in a few."

She snuck back into the room and looked around. Thank goodness, her thong was hanging on the corner of the tv in plain view and she quickly pulled it on. She was just about to slip into her evening gown when the male in the bed started to stir. Shit. Forget that. She leapt for the armchair and took his white dress shirt, slipping it on before grabbing her clutch, stockings and heels and fleeing out the door.

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><p>The man turned over and slowly sat up on the bed, frowning when he saw was the door closing. He blinked, trying to remember the events of the night before. His recall proved unusually faulty and he cursed himself for his immoderate consumption of alcohol. <em>Who<em> was the person who had just left?

It wasn't until he got up to go to the bathroom that he saw it.

A crystal-beaded high-heeled sandal lay on the carpet next to the door.

He picked it up, looking thoughtful as he perused the footwear, which was an epitome of elegance and class. He knew nothing about shoes with the exception of his own, but even he could tell that these were expensive. Well, it was a relief to know he hadn't taken a lady of a night to his room. Unless she was a very high end type of escort. But he didn't think so. Something his gut was telling him. And he always trusted his gut instinct.

So it looked like he was going to have to do some investigating to find out who his Cinderella is. Despite the twin bongo drums pounding in his head, his mouth curved into a smile as he placed the sandal on top of his ready bag. Prince Charming may have had minions, but he sure as hell didn't have Penelope Garcia. The question was not whether she could find out the identity of the owner of the sandal, but how he was going to phrase his request to the technical analyst without letting the cat out of the bag.

Because it certainly won't do to have his subordinates finding out that their Unit Chief had had a one night stand with a person whose identity he could not recall. Now, if he were Morgan, that would be fine. But Hotch had his personal reputation to uphold. He just hoped he hadn't inadvertently exhibited his intentions last night to the whole team. Dave would never let him live it down. Never.

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><p><strong>Pretty please send a review my way and tell me what you think of the start of this fic!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much for ALL your reviews. I'm completely blown away by how many of you liked chapter 1, and I'm extremely sorry I couldn't reply to each one of you. I've been really struggling with exhaustion.**

**My apologies for the delay of this chapter. P/s. I know I do like to tease Reid, but I truly, genuinely adore him! I just love making Emily wicked and super cheeky. Fic now M rated, although not as a result of my usual saucy writing. There may be some of that later, possibly.**

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><p>"So, I gather you had a good night?"<p>

Hotch didn't bother opening his eyes or moving from his slightly reclined position on his seat. In the background, the engines of the jet rumbled quietly. It was the day after the wedding and team was on the way back to D.C. He replied to one of his oldest friends. "Didn't everyone? It was a nice wedding."

"Oh, I'm sure everyone had good night. But somehow I have a feeling your night was way better than mine." There was more than a trace of amusement in Dave's voice.

Damn it. His headache was bad enough despite the double dose of Advil he had taken. Why the hell did Dave had to choose the seat next to him? "I have no idea what you mean." After knowing his friend for this length of time, Hotch knew that if he played dumb long enough, Dave would eventually give up. He just had to make sure he gave nothing away.

"I mean that you obviously spent the night with a lovely signora and indulged yourself in more ways than one." Dave's tone was definitely suggestive.

At that statement, the Unit Chief opened his eyes and turned to look at his subordinate. "Even if I did, which I neither admit nor deny, it's none of your business, Dave. No offence meant."

Dave shrugged. "None taken. I just want to be sure you know what you're doing. You and Beth only broke up six weeks ago."

"That's true, but I knew it wasn't going to work out long before that. I should have broken it off much earlier, but I don't know, I guess I kept hoping she would come to understand that the job comes first." He was disappointed that their relationship had failed, but he hadn't been with her long enough to be truly broken-hearted. "I've come to terms with our relationship ending." Beth was another story, but he was feeling too sick to analyse what he thought had been a somewhat maniacal smile she had flashed him at the end of their uncomfortable final meeting.

His friend nodded. "Apparently you have." Dave pressed his lips together, trying to suppress a smile, but failing. "You _did_ have a good night, then?"

Hotch groaned. "The only reason I'm answering you is because I'm feeling like there's a company of miners chiselling away inside my head and I need you to shut up before I hurl. I had a good night with a lovely lady. Okay? Happy?" He leaned his head back on the headrest.

"Not as happy as you were, but then I was alone and you _clearly_ weren't."

Hotch ignored this. Silence reigned for the next few minutes. "So how did you know I was with someone? And please don't say your superior profiling skills. Because I will puke on you."

"My superior profiling skills. Plus the fact that my room was next to yours."

The younger man squeezed his eyes shut. "Ah shit." Another detail he had forgotten in his alcoholic, lust-fuelled daze.

Dave chuckled. "So, other than the fact that she's religious, what else do you know about her?"

Hotch frowned. "Religious? What do you mean?"

"There was a lot of 'oh God' going on. There was even chanting of that same phrase at a number of stages. You were that impressive huh?"

The Unit Chief felt a flood of warmth rise in his face. "She was the impressive one, trust me." A sudden image of scarlet lips wrapped intimately around him flashed into his mind's eye. Even as his body responded, he frowned. A curtain of silky black hair shielded her face, preventing him from identifying her. Why couldn't he see her face?

"Aaron, you've only been with two women in your life. Well, three now. I'm sure ninety-five percent of the adult population have had more sexual partners than you. Hell, _Reid's_ probably had more partners than you. But I won't worry. What you lack in experience I'm sure you make up for in attention to detail."

"Oh God," muttered Hotch. "Even a friendship that's lasted as long as ours has a line, Dave. And you've just crossed it." He stood up unsteadily. "Now I _really_ need to hurl."

"This conversation is not over!" called out Dave.

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><p><em>At the other end of the jet...<em>

"You _what?_"

Emily winced at JJ's loud exclamation. "JJ, will you keep your voice down? I really don't want Sleeping Beauty there waking up and hearing all about my slutty one night stand." The three women glanced over at the slumbering male genius seated in their group of four seats.

"Yeah, with some guy you don't even remember," chimed in Garcia.

The brunette turned and glared at her. Undeterred, the tech analyst just snickered. "Some guy with a Duracell dick. You know, it just keeps going on and on and on and on..."

"Pen! Hush up with you? Oh God, will this headache never quit? I've had like four Tylenols already." She leaned her head back gingerly onto the headrest. "And I said nothing about his stamina. How the heck did you know?"

JJ giggled. "Oh sweetie, have you seen the way you're walking this morning? You look like a cowboy."

"Or like you've ridden one all night, anyhow." Garcia again.

Emily groaned loudly at her friends' antics.

"Do you seriously not remember a thing about the guy? Really?" JJ frowned. "You have to remember _something_ from last night. It wasn't like you blacked out."

"I've had enough flashbacks now to know I did not black out and he's not into necrophilia," replied Emily dryly. "In fact, if you want to know, he really liked it when I took the initiative."

"Oh?" Garcia's eyes widened and she leaned closer. "Do tell. Did he like it when you were on top?"

The brunette profiler saw Reid shift in his seat out of the corner of her eye. Hmm... Was the young doctor pretending to be asleep? She decided to test out her theory. "Oh yeah. He loved it when I was on top. But you know what his favourite was? When I was sucking him off. He said my mouth would put a Hoover to shame." Reid's legs jerked involuntarily as the two other females laughed. Emily narrowed her eyes when his eyes remained closed.

"Em, come on. He really said that?" Garcia arched an eyebrow.

Emily shook her head, grinning despite the pain in her head. She jerked her head towards Reid and looks of comprehension dawned on the faces of her friends. "Come on, girls, would I lie about sex? Not only did he say that, he told me that I was the best..." she lowered her voice, "cocksucker he'd ever had."

JJ choked on her laughter while Garcia gasped, tears of mirth filling her eyes. Emily looked at Reid again. He was still pretending to be asleep, although she was pretty sure she had witnessed him swallow convulsively.

When JJ finally recovered from her bout of laughter, the blond profiler looked thoughtfully at her friend. "You know what, drunk as you were, I don't think you'd have gone to a complete stranger's room, no matter how good looking he was. You've got way too much self-preservation and training for that."

Emily was doubtful. "I don't know, didn't you tell me that I propositioned some guy the last time we had our girls' night?"

"You did, but then you've got a smart mouth, SSA Prentiss," chirped Garcia. "We knew you won't have gone through with it."

"Well, who could it be then? The only people I knew at the wedding were from the BAU."

"What did you say? That he had dark hair?" JJ frowned. "How bout Bowen?"

Emily looked incredulously at the blonde. "I'm pretty sure that the guy I was with wasn't wearing a toupee Jayj."

JJ rolled her eyes. "You never said the dark hair was natural."

"Trust me, the dark hair is as nature intended. I was up close and personal to his natural hair." She slanted a look at the sleeping Reid. "Y'know, the curly ones." Reid's fingers moved on the handrest.

"Okay, okay, time out with the sexcapades for the moment," interrupted Garcia. "What about George?" George was the newest graduate from the Academy. He was doing a rotation in the BAU assisting Strauss.

"Pen, hon, I'm flattered you think I could be a cougar, but George isn't even out of puberty yet. I swear I saw some peach fuzz on his chin at that meeting with Strauss when he was standing next to the window. The sun was making it look like some kind of weird beard halo."

"Anderson?"

"Cute, but I have a sneaking suspicion he might be gay. I saw him checking Reid's ass out the other day in the break room. Swear to God."

The two ladies broke out into peals of laughter. A muscle on the side of Reid's mouth twitched but his eyes didn't open. Emily was impressed at his forebearance.

"Um...Cartwright, Llewellyn, Balducci?" asked JJ helpfully.

"Combover, BO and whoa, there, hamburger lover. No, my man was a lean, mean, loving machine. And he smelt good. So good I could almost eat him up. Wait, I kinda did. And he tasted sooooo good." She winked at her friends.

"You have so got a crush on this guy, E!" squealed Garcia.

"No freaking way." At the raised eyebrows on the other two females, she relented. "Okay, okay, maybe just a teeny, weeny bit. And it's only because of the amazing sex we had. Seriously, I've never had this much sex in the space of seven hours. We did freaking everything." She paused. "Well, except for me taking it up the ass. And that was only because we didn't have lube. Cos, you know, I reckon I would've let him if he'd asked."

Reid suddenly leapt to his feet, making the three females jump. "ENOUGH! I can't take this any more. Emily! I can't believe you...you..." His face was red and he mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. He exhaled in a rush. "You really need to censure your speech."

Emily grinned at him. Who knew teasing Reid was a hangover cure? "Calm down, Reid, I was only teasing you. There was no sex at all in actual fact. My gentleman friend and I spent the night eating cucumber sandwiches, drinking tea and discussing the weather."

The doctor gave her a disgruntled look. "You may not have blacked out last night, but you did experience a brownout. That's why you don't recall portions of what occurred last night. You should regain some memories, but it is also possible that there will be parts that you will never remember again. However, I do find it interesting that you don't recall any facial features of this man. Perhaps something is psychologically preventing you from doing so. In any case, I do hope you at least practised safe sex." He looked up. "It looks like Hotch is finally done with the bathroom. Excuse me."

Emily blanched. "Safe sex? _Oh, shit!_"

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><p><strong>*grin* Please continue sending me your reviews. Your comments are very much valued! More soon!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

_One month after "that night"..._

"Em? Em, are you in there? Emily!"

Emily moaned, curling tighter into a ball. "Go away." She thought she had said that aloud, but no sound emerged from her mouth.

"EMILY PRENTISS! If you don't answer in the next five seconds, JJ and I are going to come in! I really hope you're not having naughty dirty sex with Mr No-Face-but-Gorgeous-Butt."

The brunette profiler grabbed a pillow and covered her head with it. "Go away, Pen!" This time her voice worked. Unfortunately, it didn't travel anywhere near where it needed to go.

A minute later, she heard a cacophony of noises in the living room and then Pen's voice again. This time much nearer. As in right next to her.

"Em? Are you all right?"

Couldn't she tell from the smell of sickness in the room? "No."

"Sweetie, I'm going to take the pillow away now, okay?" Slowly, the pillow she was holding was tugged away.

"Wow. Oh my goodness," she heard JJ say. "Emily, what happened?"

"I think I'm dying." She didn't even know who was speaking, it didn't sound like her at all. Maybe she had been possessed a la The Exorcist. She'd even had the exact same projectile vomiting symptoms. Case in point, yesterday when she couldn't make the six extra steps to the bathroom and had to throw open her window in a panic. Mr Thompson on the ground floor wasn't going to be impressed when he opened the window outside his bedroom. On the bright side, she had given his roses an extra dose of fertiliser. She wondered vaguely if regurgitated food had the same nutrients as manure. Where was Reid when she needed him?

"You are not dying, don't be ridiculous." Emily watched blearily as Pen leaned over to prop a pillow behind her head.

"I'm going to get her some tea. But first, this bucket needs emptying."

"Sorry, JJ," whispered Linda Blair lite.

"Lucky for you, I'm a mum. I can handle anything you throw at me. Snot, vomit, runny poop..." Her voice trailed off as she walked into the bathroom.

Emily felt her tummy roil. "Oh God, JJ..."

Pen smoothed the hair off her face. "Sweetie, why didn't you call us? We hadn't heard from you in four days! I was on the verge of sending Kevin over to check in on you. Lucky our case was solved just in time. Have you been sick the whole time we've been away?"

"Yeah, I think. All the days are kinda blurry. I don't know where I got this stomach flu from. I've been too sick to get to a doctor. Not that it matters, I don't think he'd be able to do anything. Because I swear I've even puked out the lining to my stomach. I don't even think that sphincter thingy on top of my stomach even sphincs or whatever any more." She sank into her pillow, exhausted from that small surge of energy she had just expended talking.

JJ walked back into the room, bucket in hand. "I'm no doctor, but I have read my family medical encyclopaedia from beginning to end since I've had Henry. I don't think a stomach flu would have lasted this long." She frowned. After putting the bucket down next to the bed, she perched on the edge of it. "Em, I'm not asking you this because I doubt your recall, and I know you told us you used protection, but are you one hundred percent sure you used protection in Topeka?"

Emily gaped at her friend. "I am not pregnant, JJ! And I am one thousand percent sure we used protection. I clearly remember pulling out the Trojans from my clutch. Pen, go check, it's on the shelf in my wardrobe. I tell you, they're gone because we used them all."

The tech analyst pulled the bag out and opened it. "Hmm..." She pulled out a foil wrapper and examined it. "Do you want the good news first or the bad news?"

Emily felt her heart stop. "Pen, what is it? Tell me!"

Her friend gave her a pained look. "So, the good news is that all the Trojans are gone, which means you probably did use them. The bad news is that they expired like a year ago."

A deathly silence fell over the room.

"_Oh my God._" This from JJ because Emily was too stunned to even speak. It seemed her stomach was stunned too, because she felt no nausea for the first time in almost a week.

"Okay, okay, we need to just calm down and take a deep breath," said Pen.

Unfortunately, it seemed that Emily's lungs were in too much shock to work. Her vision started tunnelling.

The tech analyst continued. "Em, you're forty-two right? Almost forty-three. Anyway, I was watching some documentary about babies and pregnancy the other night, and it said that at forty-three, women had only a one to two percent chance of conception in a year! So it would pretty much be a miracle if you had gotten pregnant."

Emily felt like she had just been plunged into a vat of jelly. Everything around her was muffled and she couldn't breathe or move.

"Emily? Hon, did you hear Pen?" She felt JJ's hand on her arm. "The chances of you being pregnant are extremely low. You know, between your fertility and the fact that a condom would have had to break, which it mightn't have. So don't worry. Em, did you hear me? Em?"

The brunette looked blankly at her two friends. "I'm pregnant."

"E, you don't know that for sure. You – " Pen started to speak.

"No, I'm pregnant."

"How do you know?" asked JJ.

Emily blinked. "My boobs hurt and I haven't had my period. Also..." She bit her lip. "I haven't told you, but I've been having fertility treatments because I've decided to a baby."

The jaws of the two blondes fell open and they both stared at her with enormous eyes. Pen's were practically googly behind her glasses.

"WHAT! You've been trying to get pregnant and you didn't tell us? Oooh, you are in _big_ trouble SSA Prentiss." Pen shook her head, outrage mixed with shock reflected on her face.

JJ's response was more moderate. And a hell of lot more more terrifying. "Well, if you're right, the good news is that you don't have to worry about fertility treatments any longer." She paused. "The _bad_ news is that you could be carrying more than one baby in there."

"Fricking shit on a stick," muttered Emily, squeezing her eyes shut. "No, the worse news is that this baby is going to have a slutty mama who doesn't have a clue in hell who its father is."

Pen's next statement made her eyes fly open in horror. "Worst news. You could be carrying little cowboy babies. Oh no! Em? Em? Wake up, sweetie!"

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><p><strong>Next chapter, the team finds out. And so does our favourite couple! Please leave me a review if you can.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**So I need some suggestions as to where I take this fic. Psycho Beth is on the way but after that, I am kinda clueless. Let me know what you are hoping to see! Also, this will not be a long multichapter as I'm concentrating on writing 'My Dark Duke'. Very sorry about that.**

**Also, thank you all so very much for your lovely reviews and comments. I treasure each and every one of them.**

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><p>"Hey, what are you doing?"<p>

Hotch jerked in surprise at the unexpected voice and fumbled at the laptop sitting in front of him on the conference table. It took him four tries, but he finally managed to turn off the images that had been playing on the large screen in the room. Turning to his friend, he forced a smile. "Dave. I was...uh...nothing. I wasn't doing nothing. Anything," he corrected himself. Idiot, much, Hotchner?

"Nothing huh? I didn't know you were that close to Agent Sharpe. That was her wedding footage you were looking at, right?" Dave looked amused as he sat himself down on one of the chairs.

Hotch winced inwardly. "She sent me a dvd copy so I thought I'd have a quick look. You know, just to be polite."

"Polite. Sure, sure. So how come you got one and I didn't?" The older man looked at him.

"Maybe she thought I'd just share it with the team," answered Hotch smoothly. His legal training and negotiation skills hadn't been for nothing. "I thought the rest of you had gone out for a drink."

"We did, then we felt bad that you had to stay back, so we came back bearing alcohol."

"What – " We? Hotch's mouth fell open when Morgan traipsed in with a six pack of Blue Moon in each hand.

"What're we watching?" He put the beers down on the table and grabbed himself one before sinking down on the chair opposite Hotch. "Comedy, horror, action?"

Dave answered. "Actually, it's a chick flick about a wedding where boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk as skunks, spend the night together, then wake up with no memory of who the other person is."

Morgan groaned. "No way! That's gotta be one of the worse movie plots ever. What happens next? Wait, don't tell me. She gets pregnant and has to track her baby daddy down, working backwards, like the Hangover."

Hotch choked on a breath, coughing. "For God's sake! We are not watching a movie tonight. And we're not having drinks at work." He was going to kill Dave. Tonight. Right after he got rid of Morgan. He eyed the beer bottles. They could work as a weapon. Alcohol _can_ kill you.

"You did use protection, right?" The dark-eyed devil gave him a concerned look.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Hotch kept his tone flat. He glared at Dave.

"What's going on?" Morgan looked puzzled. "Are we talking about Hotch's sex life now?"

"Yes."

"NO!" yelled Hotch over Dave's affirmative answer.

Morgan grinned, taking a swig of his beer. "I'd much rather talk about your sex life than some stupid movie plot."

Dave laughed. "The movie plot _is_ Hotch's sex life."

"Dave, shut the hell up before I punch your lights out." The Unit Chief gave his friend a narrowed eyed glare, his tone menacing.

"Wait, what? You don't mean..." Morgan's eyes widened. "Hotch, no way, man. You slept with someone at Gina's wedding and you don't remember who it was? Whoa."

The senior profiler chuckled. "I know, right? Apparently, Hotch is mortal."

Morgan shook his head in amazement. "I don't know whether to be more surprised by the fact that Hotch drank so much he blacked out or that he had sex with a stranger. Scratch that, I'm actually amazed he had sex, full stop."

By this stage, Hotch was lying back in his seat, eyes shut tightly. He was imagining himself curled up in the corner, hands pressed to his ears and humming so he couldn't hear the conversation. Unfortunately, he couldn't even do that because he was completely sane and wasn't some four-year-old. He also couldn't use insanity as an excuse to shoot two members of his team. It was a damn shame.

"Hey, nice work, Hotch." Morgan grinned. "One more and you'll draw even with Reid."

Dave laughed. "See? I told you Reid's had more partners than you."

"Will the both of you SHUT THE HELL UP!" Hotch shouted, banging his hands on the laptop. "We are not discussing my personal life or about that night!"

His team-mates stared at him in surprise. Hotch was so worked up he didn't even notice that the wedding dvd was playing again. He waited for someone to say something. No one did.

Finally. He'd manage to shut them up. He was about to ask them to leave him alone when Dave spoke.

"How about her?"

He opened his mouth to give a cutting answer but glanced at the screen. To his own surprise he answered truthfully. "No, she wasn't a blonde."

"That redhead's cute. And she's staring at you, look," said Morgan.

"She was a brunette."

"For real? How do you know?" Morgan again.

Hotch shot him a look.

The other agent's mouth parted. He smiled sheepishly. "Oh."

The Unit Chief heard something that sounded suspiciously like a snort of laughter being suppressed. He ignored Dave.

"Do you remember what she was wearing?" asked Dave.

"I think it was a light coloured gown. With crystals or beading or something." Hotch reached down and picked up the high-heeled sandal. "And she was also wearing this." He placed it on the conference table.

The three men stared at the foot attire.

"Damn, that's well sexy," volunteered Morgan. "I would've slept with her too if I'd seen her in that."

"Don't think Aaron's into threesomes," profiled Dave. "At least not the MMF ones. Maybe he'd do MFF."

"What the fuck? Dave!" Hotch glared at the other two males. "Not helpful!"

"Sorry. Where were we? Sexy sandal wearing brunette." Dave looked back at the screen. "Her?"

"That's Gina's mother, Dave." Hotch wondered if he should shoot himself between the eyes now to save himself the anguish of the next few minutes.

"Really?" His colleague sounded genuinely surprised. "Oh, yes. She's pretty shapely from the back. And young looking. Sorry."

"That one?" Morgan pointed to an attractive brunette in the corner of the screen.

"No."

"How do you know for sure? I thought you didn't remember her face?"

"I remember her..." Hotch's voice trailed off.

Morgan lifted an eyebrow. "Her..."

"Uh..." Hotch shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"Ass? Boobs? Vajayjay?" asked Morgan helpfully.

Dave took pity on Hotch. "I think what Hotch wants to say but can't is breasts. He remembers her breasts."

Yep, he should've shot himself while he had had the chance, thought Hotch.

"Damn, Hotch. You couldn't have gone for a blonde or a redhead? Gina's like half Greek. There must be at least fifty brunettes there with generous bust lines. Eighty if you're into the older ladeez, like Rossi here."

"Hey! Don't you know women are like fine wine? The older they are, the better they taste." Dave winked at Morgan and they both laughed.

Oh God. Suicide or homicide? Both were pretty tempting right about now. Unfortunately, little did he know it, but things were about to get worse.

"Hey guys, what are we watching?" Reid strolled into the room, right on cue.

Really? _Really? _ What the hell did I do to deserve this?

"Well, Hotch slept with some babe in drop dead sexy sandals, exhibit A here, and can't remember who it is. Rossi and I are trying to help him figure it out."

"At Gina's wedding?" Reid frowned as he took one of the seats. "You blacked out?"

"I think it was more of a brown out. He remembers some things." Dave's tone was mild but Hotch glared at him nonetheless.

"What things?" asked the doctor, looking curious.

"NC-17 things. And trust me, there was a lot of them. I was next door," explained Dave.

"You didn't hear anything that could help us uncover her identity?"

Hotch froze at Reid's question. Why hadn't he thought to ask his friend that?

"There is one thing," Dave said slowly. "She liked being spanked. As in she _really_ liked being spanked."

Awkward silence reigned while Hotch died quietly inside. Morgan finally spoke. "Well, I haven't seen anyone on the footage with a 'Spank Me, Daddy' tattoo on her forehead. Not helpful, but thanks Rossi. One more thing. I know I've said it before but it bears repeating. _Nice_ work, Hotch." He nodded approvingly.

Reid spoke. "So I know this sounds kind of weird and coincidental, but I know someone else who had the same experience that night."

Dave eyebrows rose. "What, someone else liked being spanked?"

"What? No! I mean, I don't know! I'm referring to the brown outs." Reid looked exasperated. And nervous.

What the hell? "Reid, for the love of God, WHO WAS IT?" shouted Hotch, whose control had just gone beyond breaking point. Again.

"It was – "

Reid didn't get to finish his sentence because at that precise moment Garcia called out. "Hello gentlemen! What are you all doing here at this hour on a Friday night?" She walked into the room, then stopped short, looking quizzically at them. "And what are you doing with Emily's Louboutin sandal?"

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><p><strong>Don't forget to send a review my way if you can!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi everyone, I am so sorry it has taken me this long to update this fic. I seemed to have lost my humor mojo there for a while, and it's still not back in full force. Doubly sorry about that. Anyhow, here is the next instalment, and please be patient. My other fic is still my priority, but I do thank you all so much for reading and favoriting this fic. I am really glad you are enjoying it.**

**This chapter is dedicated to my friend, saturdayslump, who's been having a rough time at work. I hope this cheers you up a little!**

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><p>Bzzzz... Bzzzz...<p>

How the hell did a bee managed to get into the conference room, thought Hotch vaguely. Was he actually feeling faint? No, that was impossible. Just like Chuck Norris, Aaron Hotchner _never_ faints. Still, he couldn't seem to move his limbs in any way, shape or form.

"Hello? Hello? Hotch, are you in there?"

Something white (was that a hand?) was being waved back and forth in front of his face.

"Morgan? Rossi? Dr Genius?" That same voice again. "Are you guys trying to punk me? Cos I'm not falling for it, you know. Hey, come on guys, say something before I start thinking I've stepped into another dimension. Oops, too late." Pause. "All right, that's it."

Hotch felt his chair being turned around. A moment later, Garcia's face appeared in his line of vision. Up close and way too personal.

"SIR! Snap out of it!"

He blinked. Something Garcia had said earlier was very important. What was it?

"Sir, if you don't say something to me right now I'm going to call for help. And that help could involve a defribillator being employed. Do you understand me, sir?"

"Garcia. Baby girl, you can stop shaking him now. I don't think Hotch would appreciate getting all his fillings redone."

As the Unit Chief slowly came back to reality due to his teeth rattling too loudly for him to ignore, his subordinates continued to talk.

"What, by the Seven, is going on with you guys? I come in here to find you all drinking Blue Moons with, oh my God." Garcia's eyes widened. "Is that Gina's mother's ass frozen up there on the screen? What is wrong with all of you?"

"It's not what you think, Garcia." Hotch turned to look at Reid, who was staring at the tech analyst with earnest eyes. "We were absolutely not examining Gina's mother's back profile, we were just trying to find out who Hotch had sexual intercourse with that night. And now I guess we know."

Sexual intercourse? Fucking hell. Hotch felt his face start to boil at the silence that followed.

Apparently no one knew what to say and Garcia was now too stunned to say anything, her mouth having dropped open wide. Until Dave spoke, that is. About something totally off topic.

"Hmm...I never would have thought Emily would be into spanking. Interesting." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Hotch, I knew you're into that, but Emily?" He shook his head.

Hotch stared incredulously at his friend as chokes and gasps echoed in the room. He seemed to have lost the use of his vocal chords.

"I would've thought Hotch would be more into BDSM. Not as the dom though, more the sub." Morgan offered his opinion, eyes flashing devilishly. "You know, he'd be the recipient of the spanking. You sure you didn't hear Hotch asking for some, Rossi?"

"I don't think so, but maybe some of the squealing could be – "

"WILL YOU ALL SHUT UP!" shouted Hotch jumping out of his seat. "Damn it! I need to think!"

The team went quiet.

Shit, shit, shit. Emily. He had slept with Emily. No, not really. There had been little sleep involved. In fact, they'd fucked each other's brains out. Literally, it seemed. How the hell could he not have realised that it had been her? The more relevant question at the moment though, was what the hell was he going to do?

"I have to go see her," he said suddenly. Too loudly. He had almost made himself jump at the sound. Talk about embarrassing.

"Ah, our fearless leader finally speaks," said Dave dryly. "Inspired idea, Hotch. Five stars."

"Shut up, Dave. If I had wanted your opinion I would have asked for it. And..." Hotch paused pointedly. "See? Nada."

His friend ignored him. "My advice is you should go to her place, knock on the door, and when she opens it, fall on your knees and declare your undying love. The strong, silent, alpha male strategy isn't going to be a winner here."

Hotch slammed close his laptop irritably. It didn't stop his team.

"And then take her into the bedroom and make sweet love to her until she can't think straight." Morgan's suggestion. "Although I'd probably not do the whole spanking thing tonight. It's not really appropriate for romance, if you know what I mean."

The Unit Chief gritted his teeth as he put his jacket on. No way in hell he was dignifying that with a comment.

"And try not to frown so much, Hotch. It makes you look unhappy, not an emotion you want to communicate," piped up Reid.

"I don't think Hotch is going to be frowning while he's having relations with Emily, genius." Morgan stopped short when Hotch shot daggers at him with his eyes. "Or do you? Is your frown really permanent?"

"Aargh!" Hotch wondered if there was steam coming out from the top of his head yet. He was finally starting to understand how it felt before one went postal. And his Glock wasn't going to cut it. He was going to need an M-16. He took a deep, fortifying breath and walked around the table, heading to the door.

"W..wait, sir!"

Frowning his blackest frown, he looked up at Garcia. "What is it?" he asked impatiently. Apparently she had finally recovered from the shock of discovering the identity of her best friend's one-night-stand.

"Uh...it's Emily, sir. Sh..she's..." Her voice trailed off.

"She's..." Hotch raised his eyebrows.

"P..pr..pr.." Garcia stammered.

_"Oh my God!"_shouted Reid, making everyone jump.

"What the hell, Reid!" exclaimed Morgan, looking crankier than a woman having PMT.

"WHAT?" exploded Hotch. Fucking hell, he was really going to kill someone. In the next 1.5 seconds.

"Pr..obably not at home, Hotch!" shrieked the tech analyst, looking frantically at Reid, her wide open, rolling eyes making her look like she was letting her crazy out.

He didn't know what the hell was going on. It was like his team had either been possessed by clowns or had turned into certifiable lunatics.

"Okay. Where is she?" Hotch dug his fingers into his palm to calm himself at sight of the gleeful enjoyment on Dave's face. There was going to be blood soon. A shitload of it. Arterial spray, even brain matter. The whole she-bang.

"She's uh..at the Sentara Medical Center getting checked out. You know, uh, after the flu and everything." Garcia was twisting her hands nervously and Hotch frowned. Whatever. He really had no time for this crap. Now that he knew that it was Emily, everything had changed. He needed to see her now.

Preferably before he committed multiple homicides. He was pretty sure inmates in high security prisons didn't get conjugal visits. And he wanted to make love to Emily again. This time without the influence of alcohol. He really wanted to remind himself what it felt like to make love to her.

And spank her. Damn. Hotch felt himself stir under his slacks. Thank goodness they were baggy. He saw Dave's eyes narrow like a shark scenting blood. Hotch quickly spoke as he leaned over and picked up the sandal on the table. "I'm going. Read my lips. Do. Not. Follow. Me. Or you will regret it."

Morgan flashed his full set of white teeth. "You gonna spank us, Hotch?"

Dave laughed. "From the look in his eyes, he's thinking more whips and anal probe with spikes. Go on, Hotch. We'll be here, cheering you on in spirit. And highlighting parts of that Fifty Shades of Gray novel for you to try out with Emily."

"Fifty Shades? That's tame, Rossi. Emily's a much more adventurous gal than that," scoffed Garcia, eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, I don't know about that book," said Morgan. "I've always been a proponent of using jute. Or cotton. Not ties. I know you have a lot of those, Hotch, but I just don't think they would work."

"I agree," said Dave nodding. "My personal favourite is dacron rope, the braided type. It comes in a number of colours, you know. Much more fun."

"And aesthetically pleasing for your partners. Interesting." Reid actually looked amused.

"Oh God!" groaned Hotch incredulously. "Will you all shut up? I am _not_ tying Emily up!"

"Fine, fine, sorry. We can talk about vibrators instead. Or dildoes. Whatever rocks your boat," offered Morgan generously.

"Eggs are good," chimed up Garcia. "Especially the vibrating ones."

"FUCK! That is it. I'm leaving. I can't bear listening to any more of this." Hotch strode out of the room just as Reid spoke up in a puzzled tone.

"Fifty Shades of Gray? Will someone tell me what that is?"

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><p>Twenty-five minutes later, Hotch walked up to the examining room where he had been told Emily was in. He still had no idea what he was going to say to her.<p>

Various lines came to mind as he paused outside the drawn curtain. "Hi, just in case you were wondering, I'm the guy who schtupped you senseless and then forgot who you were. But can we do it again? Even though I'm technically your boss and fraternisation isn't allowed?" Or how about, "Hi, I'm the guy whom you sucked off like a Hoover, then abandoned like an unwanted toy the next morning." Hmm, bitter much, Hotchner? Maybe, "You remember when we were in Topeka for Gina's wedding? We both had a little to much to drink. Then one thing let to another and – "

Suddenly the curtain was pushed open and he stepped aside quickly, narrowly avoiding being flattened by a very large nurse who was coming out. He looked up to see Emily lying on the bed, a ultrasound wand held by the attending physician on her flat stomach. His brain was obviously not operating at full capacity because the only thought that wandered through it was whether her skin there was as sensitive as he remembered.

"Hotch?" Her dark eyes widened. "Wh..what are you – "

"Hello there!" boomed the heavily bearded doctor. "I'm Dr Aleksandrov. You must be Emily's husband, da? Come, come, do not be shy."

What in the crazy hell was going on? Hotch slowly stepped up to Emily's bedside as she tried to explain.

"No, no, he's not my husband, doctor, he's – "

"Ah, he must be your lover then, my profuse apologies. Nevertheless, I presume he is the sperm donor. And what virile sperm he has. Because look. I see not one, but two healthy embryos."

Hotch was suddenly hearing a loud buzzing in his ears that was beginning to sound all too familiar. His head spun ferociously and he almost staggered.

"What? Doctor, are you sure?" His usually imperturbable SSA looked completely freaked out as she half sat up in shock.

"Hmm..." The physician's bushy eyebrows lowered and Hotch watched numbly as the wand moved on her abdomen. "Actually...I beg your pardon. I was incorrect, it seems."

Hotch didn't think that the fact that it was only a single baby would help at this stage. He groped for the edge of the bed to hang on to, heart pounding so hard he felt nauseous. Emily was pregnant?

"There are three babies in your uterus! What an incredible miracle! Congratulations my dear, you are having triplets!"

That was the last straw. Darkness consumed Hotch's vision and he dropped to the ground in a dead faint.

Hey, come on. Even Chuck Norris would have been knocked for a loop if _that_ little bombshell had been thrown at him.

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><p><strong>: ) Hope you enjoyed that. I'll post as soon as my muse lets me. In the meantime, do leave me a review if you can. It will cheer me up no end!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi everyone, here's the new chapter to Topeka, and I'm sorry for the delay in posting. This might be the last posting for a while as my baby's due in 3 weeks and it will be pretty crazy for a while afterwards, I'm sure.**

**If you have a moment, could I ask that you pop across to the Criminal Minds Chit Chat on Author's Corner Forum to nominate your favorite fic and/or author if something has caught your fancy in the last 12 months. There are some excellent works out there and it would really make the author's day! Thanks!**

**In the meantime, please leave me a review. It would totally make _my_ day!**

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><p>"Hotch? Hotch, can you hear me?" Emily looked with concern at her Unit Chief as he lay pale-faced on the hospital bed. Despite the turmoil raging within her mind about the news she had just received, she was worried about him. There had been a sickening crack as he had landed on the ground and the doctor's examination of him had revealed a large knot the size of an egg on the side of his head. Dr Alexandrov had tried to reassure her that her supervisor was going to be fine after probing around the site of the injury, but his joke about the fact that this 'egg' was not the type of eggs that he usually dealt with in his obstetric practice had really <em>not<em> been helpful at all.

What in the world was he doing here? And how did he even know she was here? Awesome. Not only was her supervisor lying before her possibly severely concussed, but he also knew that she was pregnant. With _triplets_, no less. A surge of nausea accompanied that thought but she ruthlessly pushed it down. Focus, Emily. You can freak the fuck out later.

Preferably somewhere where there was a bucket around.

"Hotch?"

He stirred slightly and frowned, his eyelids fluttering open. Thank goodness. His eyes slowly focused on her, before confusion clouded them.

"Wh..where am I?" That wasn't a good sign.

Emily leaned closer. "You're in the hospital."

His brows drew together. "But what was I doing here?"

"I'm not really sure, Hotch. But you fell and bumped your head." Maybe she'd be extremely lucky and he won't remember what he had heard before he fainted. She crossed her fingers on both hands on her lap, out of his line of sight.

"That explains the headache," he replied in a low voice, raising a hand to his head. He grimaced when it encountered the raised bump. Frowning, he looked up at her. "What about you? What are you doing here?"

Uh oh. "Nothing much. I was, uh...just...getting checked out." That was true.

Hotch stared at her for a long time, his intent gaze almost causing her to shift in her seat. She felt as if he was trying to discover her deepest, darkest secret. Which was currently falling pregnant with triplets during a one night stand to a complete stranger whom she didn't remember. That really was as bad as it sounded. Although really, who would ever believe that story?

Well, aside from JJ and Garcia, that is. And Morgan, Reid and Rossi. And Gina and Anderson. And the whole freaking BAU. Geez.

"There was something...I think I came to look for you to tell you something..." Hotch interrupted her musings about how her sluttyness and resulting payback was going to be spread throughout Quantico and the whole of the J. Edgar Hoover building in the near future, killing her reputation and her career at the same time.

Her eyes flew back to his. "What...was it?" he said, thinking aloud.

"Ah, Agent Hotchner!" boomed a familiar sounding voice.

Emily whirled around to see Dr Aleksandrov at the foot of the bed, together with the generously-sized masculine-looking female nurse who accompanied him earlier. The brunette agent muttered an expletive under her breath at their arrival.

"It is good to see you awake! I told your lovely colleague here that you will be well. Did I not, my dear?"

She smiled weakly. "Yes, you did."

"I am so very sorry for mistaking you as her lover, that was extremely presumptive of me, and I do beg your pardon." The Russian doctor gave them both an apologetic smile as he came up to the other side of the bed.

"And there it is," said Emily in a low voice. So much for hoping Hotch had amnesia.

Hotch frowned. "Lover?" The poor man looked completely confused.

"Yes." Dr Aleksandrov shone a light into the Unit Chief's eyes, before straightening up, looking pleased. "Pupils equally reactive. Very good. Oh, yes, I thought you were Agent Prentiss' lover when you first came in during the ultrasound. She assured me that you were not." He laughed loudly. "Actually, I believe she screamed that out as I was trying to examine you. I could barely hear myself talk, never mind think." He turned to Emily. "You have an excellent set of lungs, Agent. A very good screamer."

Emily saw Hotch blink as if in slow motion and felt like sinking through the hospital floor in embarrassment at the stunned look that appeared on his face.

Completely unaware of the double entendre he had just uttered, Dr Aleksandrov continued. "Now that my work is done, I will leave the both of you. Agent Prentiss, I suggest you follow up with an obstetrician in relation to your pregnancy. You must take care of yourself, da? As for you, Agent Hotchner, I am happy to discharge you on the condition that you go home with someone so that they can check on you during the night to ensure that you are not suffering from concussion. Otherwise you should stay here and I am sure Nurse Groenig here will be more than happy to monitor you."

Nurse Groenig bared her teeth. Emily thought she saw a hungry look in the small eyes. Yikes.

"NO!" Everyone looked in amazement at the shout from the prone patient. Hotch cleared his throat as he tried to sit up. "I mean, I will be fine, thanks."

Emily quickly stood up to steady him before he hurt himself again in his hurry to get off the bed. Who could blame him, really. The nurse looked like she hadn't eaten in years and Hotch was a delicious roast meal. Damn, she needed to stop watching so many Supernatural reruns.

"Very good, then. I will be going now. Nurse?" The doctor moved to the door. "All the best to your both."

Nurse Groenig followed him reluctantly, casting a last longing look at Hotch. Emily bit her lip at the horrified expression that flashed across his face.

The door finally closed behind the two medical staff and Emily looked up questioningly when her supervisor stopped moving. "Hotch?"

He looked serious. "Emily, I think you need to sit down. I have something to tell you."

Great, she thought, feeling a little sick. "I have to sit down? Wow, it must be something earth shattering," she quipped, her heart thudding when he didn't respond to her grin. What now? Oh, come on, get a grip, Em, it can't be something as earth shattering as the news that you're carrying triplets. Still, she gripped her hands together in her lap as he looked intently down at her from his standing position.

"Emily, I..." He paused, an uncertain look appearing on his face. Strangely enough, that expression, which she rarely ever saw on him, took away her anxiety.

"What is it, Hotch? You can tell me."

"I'm not quite sure how to say this," he said, after a long while. "Do you remember Gina's wedding?"

"Yes." Well, technically she remembered the _wedding,_ just not the night that followed.

"That night..." Hotch cleared his throat. "It was me, I mean, it was I that you spent the night with." A dull flush rose up from his throat to cover his face.

Emily froze. Her mind went blank and a very long silence reigned. She didn't know how long. She felt like she had lost track of all time and space.

"Emily?" Hotch looked anxious.

"I...what did you say?" she asked numbly. It was like her brain was mired in mud. She struggled to process his words.

"We spent the night together after Gina's wedding." As if realising that she was in shock, he knelt down before her. She stared at him speechlessly as he covered her cold hands with his. "I know this is a shock for you, but it's true. I've...started to remember bits and pieces of that night."

A wave of shame rushed through her. Oh God, she slept with _Hotch_? Slept being a technical word. There wasn't much sleep involved. Her face went red as a vision of her on straddling her Unit Chief came to her mind's eye. "You mean you knew all this time and didn't tell me?" The fact that he had known it was her made the situation a billion times worse.

"No," he replied hurriedly. "I didn't know until a short while ago, I swear. I think we both had a little too much to drink that night." His voice was gentle, as was the look in his eyes, where she was expecting condemnation.

Her breath hitched. "Hotch, I...don't know what to say." What _do_ you say when you found out you spent the night with your boss? Why the hell hadn't she watched more _Days of Our Lives_ or _The Bold and the Beautiful_ or _The Young and the Restless_. This situation must have happened on one of the shows. Or maybe all three of them.

A thought crossed her mind that maybe after this she could very likely be known in the BAU as 'The Slutty and the Brainless'. Or 'The Old and Yet Bountiful'.

"You don't have to say anything right now. I know this is a lot to take in. We can talk about the other thing later."

In other words, her pregnancy. The reminder made her feel a wave of queasiness. Despite that fact that she had barely processed what he had just told her, she had to ask. "Hotch? How do you feel about the babies?"

He breathed out slowly, not breaking his gaze from hers. "Honestly? I think it's incredible." His voice was quiet, but filled with reverence. "An unexpected miracle." He swallowed visibly as she tried to hold back her tears. "I hope you think so too."

"I do," she whispered.

"Well, then." He gave her a brilliant smile which made her heart stutter, then stood up. "How about I take you home and then we can talk?"

Emily opened her mouth to reply in the affirmative. Unfortunately, at that precise moment an overwhelming wave of nausea struck. She automatically leaned over, then threw up uncontrollably.

All over his black laced-up shoes and charcoal slacks. Her flats, tucked under the chair she was sitting on, were untouched.

_Oh no_. Slowly, she lifted her eyes to his, feeling utterly miserable.

His laughing gaze was not at all the reaction she had expected. His tone was gently teasing. "You know, all you had to say was no."

She couldn't reply for the life of her.

He smiled. "Just wait there, I'll call the nurse for some water and get cleaned up. I'll be right back."

Only one thought reverberated in Emily's head as she stared at Hotch's departing back.

_Freaking hell, I'm falling in love with my Unit Chief._


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi everyone, thanks first and foremost for all your well wishes on the birth of my baby boy. This is the first writing effort I have made since he arrived, so please do forgive me if I'm not back in the swing of things quite yet. I can't promise to update regularly, but I do promise to try my best. Unbetaed, and it's after 2 a.m. so please forgive any typos.**

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><p>A short time later, the SUV was making its way along the highway. Emily stole a look at Hotch. His hands were steady on the wheel, and he looked remarkably unperturbed after everything that had just happened, while she, well, she felt like she was a bare bag of nerves.<p>

She had no idea what to say to him. What did one say to someone who had impregnated them unknowingly? One's boss nonetheless. After mind-blowing, out-of-this-world sex? An image of her on top of him flashed through her mind and she felt a wave of heat travel up her neck.

Damn it! Thank goodness the interior of the SUV was dark.

"I can practically hear the gears shifting in your head. What are you thinking about?"

After the silence of the last ten minutes, she was unfortunately startled into answering. "Just sex."

Freaking hell. Emily, you idiot! Chastising herself though was a little too late. She groaned inwardly. Apparently her pregnancy had also taken away her ability to filter her thoughts. And words.

Hotch shot her a glance, eyebrows raised. Just barely. On him, it was practically an exclamation. "Sex?" Was that amusement in his voice?

Her eyes narrowed. "Um... yes, you know, sects. Groups with distinct religious, political or philosophical beliefs." Ha! Talk about pulling something out of her ass. Boy, she was good. Nice save, Em.

"And you were thinking about sects because..." She didn't need to look at her Unit Chief to know his brow was still raised.

"Oh, just because," she answered nonchalantly. Just because? What are you, six? "Uh, I'm trying to expand my general knowledge. Can't let Reid steal the spotlight all the time."

"And what have you gleaned from your efforts so far into the topic?" Yep, there was definitely an undertone of laughter in his voice.

She turned and looked at him. "That there are many, many types of sects." Ugh, she totally sucked at this. "Okay, okay, I was lying. I was thinking about s-e-x. Happy now?"

Hotch chuckled. How could that sound so ridiculously sexy? Somehow finding out that it was him that she had spent the night with had completely changed the way she looked at him. Oh boy, that's right. She had seen him naked. And it sure had been a sight. She quickly jerked her gaze away and stared straight ahead. Go away, naked Hotch!

"Well, how happy I am depends on what exactly you were thinking about." He shot her a glance. A teasing glance, if she wasn't mistaken. If he looked or sounded any sexier, she was going to have to jump him. Safe driving be damned. After all, she hadn't had sex in like what, eight weeks.

Interesting. Who knew you could be both horny and nauseous all in the same hour. Crazy ass hormones. She tried to gather her thoughts. "I have to admit I wasn't quite expecting our conversation to start with the subject of us doing the happy dance with our lower extremities." Not that she really minded. She wasn't sure if she was up to a heavy discussion about what the future was going to look like.

"Sorry, that was rather juvenile of me, wasn't it?" His voice was rueful. "To be honest, I'm not sure what to say. It's been a rather eventful evening."

"No kidding. I challenge anyone to experience a more eventful evening than finding out that you're expecting triplets and that their father is your boss." Yikes. It sounded worse than she'd thought. What was everyone going to think of her?

"Hey." Emily looked down when his hand covered hers. "We're going to work this out together, okay?"

"I'm...kinda scared." She had surprised herself by admitting her fear.

"Me too."

"Really? Because, I mean, you've got Jack."

"I haven't had three children concurrently." He smiled at her.

"Oh my God, don't remind me. I am so freaked out about that right now, I can't even think beyond the fact that I only have two boobs. I mean, how the heck am I going to feed three babies at the same time with two boobs?" She sounded a little hysterical, even to herself.

"Well, first of all, there is something called a bottle, which you can use for feeding babies. And second, I'll be there to help you. Third, let's cross that bridge when we get to it, okay? And fourth, take a breath before you asphyxiate."

She took a breath. "Right. You're right of course." She was silent for a while as she tried to imagine being surrounded by three babies. A thought suddenly occurred to her and she brightened up. "Hey, I just thought of a bright side to having triplets. The babies and I could star in a reality show. What do you think about 'Three babies and a federal agent' for the title?"

Hotch sounded resigned. "Why do I get the feeling you and I have vastly different views about what's going to happen to the children?"

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><p>Meantime, at the BAU...<p>

"I wonder how Hotch and Emily are going?" mused Dave as he took a sip of his scotch.

"Going at it, you mean," answered Morgan, winking at Garcia, who giggled and shook her head at him.

"You're an ass, Morgan." This from JJ, who, thought Dave, sounded more than a little tipsy. "A handsome ass, but an ass nonetheless."

Dave grinned. Yep, their little blonde, sometimes bad-ass profiler was definitely going to be a little worse for the wear tomorrow morning. If she had been sober, she would never have said anything that could potentially inflate Morgan's ego any more than it already was.

"What?" protested Morgan, pretending to look hurt. "Like you haven't tried to picture them doing the horizontal mambo."

"Oh eww! I haven't! At least till now. Thanks for putting that in my head." Garcia grimaced and took a swig of her beer. "I really, really, really didn't want a picture of Hotch in the nude in my head."

"I wonder if Emily calls him 'sir' in bed." Morgan laughed. "Hey, maybe when she's getting spanked."

"I am really uncomfortable with this subject matter." Reid frowned disapprovingly. "I don't think it's any of our business what they do in their own time."

Morgan cocked at eyebrow. "You're not even curious about what they might possibly be doing right now? 'Cos I would give away my backup weapon to be a fly on the wall when Hotch tells Emily he's her loverrrr."

Everyone groaned at his emphasis on the last word. JJ threw a corn chip at him.

"Well, fortunately for us girls, we can get the inside scoop from the source herself." Garcia shared a grin with JJ. "You boys, however, will just have to use your imagination."

"Oh, I already am, baby girl," drawled Morgan.

JJ flicked a beer bottle cap at her team-mate's chest. "You're a _disgusting_ ass."

"Ah, but what a fine ass it is," came the retort. "In fact, I challenge you to find a finer ass in the whole of the BAU."

"And that," interjected Dave, putting down his glass, "is my cue to leave. You guys can continue to discuss Morgan's ass after I leave."

"I'm coming with you," said Reid hurriedly. "Morgan's gluteus maximus is an even more unappealing subject than Emily and Hotch having sex." He shivered in revulsion.

No one bothered to hide their laughter, including Dave.

"My money's on Anderson actually," volunteered Garcia. "Have you noticed how much he's been working out lately? You could bounce a flash drive off that taut behind."

"Nice," grinned JJ, who gave her friend a high five.

"No way Anderson's ass is better than mine! Here, come on, flick that bottle cap on my ass, and I'll prove it." Morgan's outraged tone and the sound of feminine laughter was the last thing Dave and Reid heard as they walked out of the room.

Dave shook his head. "Every time I think we've plumbed the lowest depths of conversational topics, he comes up with something new."

When his comment was met with silence, the older profiler looked over at his colleague, who appeared deep in thought. "Reid?"

The doctor blinked. "Oh, sorry. I was thinking about Anderson's ass. No! Not in that way!" He blushed beet red while Dave stared at him in amazement. "I was just wondering if going to the gym would improve the muscle tone in my...uh, you know...ass. I just want Morgan to stop referring to me and my skinny ass."

Dave sighed as they stepped into the elevator. "Reid, I love you like a son, but if you say the word ass one more time, I'm going to have to kick you in the gluteus maximus. Now, let's go home, shall we?"

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><p><strong>Do please leave me a review if you can. It would cheer me up no end!<strong>

**Also, the nominations are up for the CM Profiler's Choice Awards. The final ballot is here (without spaces): topic/74868/73609377/1/ 2012-Profiler-s-Choice-CM-Awards-FINAL-VOTING-BALLOT-HERE. Please do cast a vote for your favourite stories and author. Your vote would be much appreciated!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Finally, an update! Thank you all so much for your never-ending patience. I promise I am updating as quickly as I am able. Hope you like this chapter. I swear I have never written so many sexually suggestive comments in a fic ever!**

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><p>"Morning everyone." Emily smiled serenely as she carefully placed two coffees, a pastry and finally her tote bag on her desk. As expected, it didn't take long for her beloved team members to react to her unexpected presence.<p>

"Emily! Why the hell didn't you tell me you were coming in today?" Morgan leapt up from his desk and was by her side in a flash.

The slender brunette smiled as she returned his hug. "Hey Morgan."

"Emily. It's good to see you." Reid embraced her somewhat awkwardly, but his wide smile warmed her.

"Hey Reid. So have you been keeping Morgan in line in my absence?"

"Finally decided to invest in a riding crop and it seems to be working. Morgan's rather like a prized stallion." Reid lowered his voice. "At least _he_ seems to think he is. It's very puzzling."

Emily stared at her younger colleague in surprise, then burst out laughing, almost drowning out Morgan's 'haha, very funny' comment. Finally recovering, she clapped the doctor on the back. "Nice one, Reid. Although I personally won't have used the riding crop since it has some particular connotations." She winked at him as she sat down on her swivel chair. Boy, was she exhausted. She and Hotch had talked for hours at her apartment last night.

"What do you mean?" Reid frowned.

Now it was Morgan's turn to laugh. "Let me guess. You still haven't read 50 Shades yet, have you?"

The younger man shot him an evil eye and Emily tried to smother a smile. Her little boy was growing up and starting to hold his own.

"I don't need to read that _book_," he said the last as if it was a dirty word, "to know what a riding crop can be used for. And for the record, if that _is_ in the book, it's such a cliché. Even I know of better things to use."

"Oh, do tell." Morgan smiled disbelievingly. "I didn't think you'd be the type who liked feeling pain, Reid."

"Who said I was the one on the receiving end?" retorted Reid as he returned to his desk, leaving Morgan gaping after him. The younger man cast Emily a mischievous look when he saw her raised eyebrows. "Don't think you know everything about me, Morgan."

She shook her head, grinning. "Ah, it's good to be back at work. I'd almost forgotten how entertaining you guys are. Way better than day time tv."

"Don't think this conversation is over, Reid," called out Morgan. He leaned against her desk. "Speaking of work, where is our fearless leader?" He gave her a teasing look. "Or did you tire him out last night?"

Emily shot him a WTF look. "I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. Unless you mean when I asked him to suck ..." she paused for a significant period of time, watching as her colleague's mouth parted. "...the dust and dirt from the carpet with the hoover. I haven't vacuumed in such a long time and he was sweet to offer to help." She fought the urge to snicker when Morgan shot her an annoyed look.

"You're an evil woman."

She gave her best witch cackle while imagining Lana Parrilla's evil smile in her mind. Hey, not a bad effort for her first go. Thanks Lana.

"So you expect me to believe Hotch spent the night vacuuming." Morgan looked challengingly at her.

"I suppose you were expecting some other type of hoovering," said Emily sarcastically as she started to delete the emails in her inbox.

"What's this about hoovering?" Garcia's chirpy voice projected over her shoulder. "Are we talking about dust sucking or dick sucking? Hey peaches." She leaned down to give her friend a hug.

"Pen!" Emily shook her head in laughter. "Good thing it's only 7.30 and no one else is around. Oh look, you've made Reid blush."

The trio glanced over, and sure enough, Reid was bright red. "Seriously guys, I wish you won't discuss Emily and Hotch's sexual proclivities. It's completely inappropriate in the workplace."

"Thank you, Reid. Although I feel as if I should correct something. We do not have sexual proclivities at the present moment because we are not engaging in any bedroom type activities regularly." She paused for effect. "A fact I plan to change as soon as it is physically feasible."

Morgan grinned. "Let me guess. _Moet and Chandon_, candles and a sexy negligee."

"That is so nineties, Morgan. Or is that your M.O.? I'm thinking more basic. Like coffee, a cruller and a desk. And who even does candles any more? Although the hot wax could be fun," she said, sounding thoughtful. Damn, it was so good to be back.

Her colleague looked suspiciously at her. "No way Hotch would be into that."

"How would you know what Hotch would be into?" This from Garcia. "Dontcha know still waters run deep and all that jazz? It's always the quiet ones." She winked at Reid and Emily chuckled when the doctor rolled his eyes and blushed simultaneously.

"That's true. Just think about JJ and Will. There's a reason why she fell for a detective," said Emily distractedly when she saw a strangely titled email. What in the world?

"What are you talking about?"

Garcia snickered at Morgan's puzzled expression. "Gunplay babe."

"WHAT? No fricking way! JJ and Will?" Her BFF looked flabbergasted. "What the hell is with all of you and your crazy ass sexual fantasies?"

"You haven't even heard about Rossi and his food fetish," said Garcia sagely. "And FYI, my sex life is completely normal."

"Awesome," muttered Morgan. "Now I'm thinking of Rossi and an apple pie. Sheez. And hey, what sex life? You dating someone and you haven't told me?" He frowned.

"Oh no. Way too much emotional commitment. I see a sexual surrogate and he gets me off. It's great."

Emily couldn't remember the last time Morgan was at a loss for words. She was tempted to continue with the ribbing but she had more important things on her mind. "What's this email about? Morgan's ass versus Anderson's ass. Vote now?"

"Oh that." Garcia giggled. "Morgan was crowing about how his ass was The. Most. Perfect. Ass in the whole BAU. JJ and I disagreed and said Anderson's was better. So Morgan bet that he would get more votes than Anderson. Hence the ass-off."

"What!" Emily spluttered in laughter. "Geez, I leave you guys for three weeks and your minds all descend into the gutter."

"C'mon, Prentiss. You're going to vote for me right?" Morgan got up and turned around, his jean-clad backside barely a feet from her face. He even lifted his shirt up so she could have what she assumed was the 'full' effect. "This is the most perfect ass you've seen, right? I could show you my naked butt if that would help. Cos I've got a g-string in my locker somewhere."

"Yikes. No thanks." Emily tried to ignore the loud sounds of hilarity from Garcia's direction. "I get enough nightmares from my cases."

"Emily, you really think Anderson's ass is better than mine?" Morgan sounded seriously serious.

"Um … I can't say I've really thought about it," she said diplomatically and truthfully. "Now, will you please take your rear end out of my line of sight?"

Morgan finally turned around, much to her relief. Her eyes were beginning to burn. And not in a nice way. "What, you've suddenly stopped appreciating the male form? Come on, whose ass is the best?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "For goodness sake, if you really want to know, both your butts are fair, but it's your Unit Chief's derriere that really rocks my boat. Okay?"

Reid and Garcia burst into laughter at the look of frustration on Morgan's face. "Got you there, Morgan," said Reid.

"Hotch's ass! You're joking, Prentiss!"

"I never joke about the form of a male form. Guess you didn't notice Hotch's glutes in his bike shorts. Let me tell you that those charcoal slacks cover up a hell of a lot of yummy … well, boy things." Emily glanced at her watch. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to his office to wait for him." She stood and picked up the coffees and pastry from her desk. "I've got a date with Hotch and his desk." She winked at her friends, then strode out without waiting for their comments.

"Ok, I'm going," said Garcia, turning to walk away, "'cos here comes the Chief."

The two male profilers watched as their supervisor walked up the stairs to his office, an expectant smile on his face.

"Emily's such a bloody joker." Morgan walked back to his desk. "Like Hotch would ever get it on in his office."

"Oh really?" Reid was gazing at their supervisor's office with wide eyes. "Then why did Hotch just shut his door and the blinds?"

"No fricking way!" Morgan followed his gaze. "I'm sure they're just talking."

They both jumped when the unmistakable shape of a body landed against the blinds, flattening it against the window. Two large hands pressed against the blinds on either side of the form.

"Talking. Well, I suppose that's one way of describing it," said Reid slowly as the blinds trembled violently.

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><p><strong>Please drop me a review if you can. It will totally make my day!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

**Woo, I'm on a roll! Ok, there's probably some typos in here because it's 1 a.m. and I only had 5 hours sleep last night. A bit more romance than before because well, we do want our favourite duo to end up together. Hope you like this.**

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><p>"So, do you think they bought it?"<p>

Hotch was close enough that his breath fanned her lips. It was enough to make her shiver. Those damn pregnancy hormones was making her horny enough to rut against his leg like some sex-crazed miniature schnauzer who needed intervention from Cesar Milan like quick smart. Leg? Whoa. If she had been a dog her eyes would definitely have pricked up. Speaking of leg, she only needed to move her right leg a little and then she would practically be straddling his thigh. The way she was feeling right now, she could go from straddle to orgasm in twenty seconds. Thirty tops.

"Emily?"

"Hmm?" She blinked. What... oh damn it. She'd missed her chance. Hotch was already stepping away. And then he held out his hand to help her off the blinds. What a gentleman he was. God, he was gorgeous. She still couldn't believe they had slept together. The brief scenes she remembered made it all feel like some vivid dream, nothing more.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. And thanks for being a good sport. I just couldn't resist. Did you see Morgan's face?"

A rare grin lit up Hotch's face. "I had a quick look. It was hilarious."

She made a face before sinking into the couch opposite his desk. "Wish I could have seen it. Next time you get to be the one against the blinds."

Hotch raised his eyebrows as he came over and sat down next to her. "I'd much rather make love to you somewhere more comfortable where there's preferably a bed."

Emily gaped at him. Did her prudish Unit Chief just talk about making love to her?

"Wow. I never would have thought I would see you at a loss for words," he said teasingly. "Relax, I was only joking. Actually, I wasn't joking about the bed part. But I not going to try getting you into it. Not for a long while anyhow."

"Really?" Well, hell. That totally sucked. But it wasn't like she could tell him she wanted him to take her to bed so that she could get her rocks off. He must already think she was a loose woman. Why had she drunk so much? Look where alcohol had gotten her. Pregnant to her boss with triplets and a career that was about to become a distant memory.

He smiled. "That's not disappointment I hear is it?"

She sighed, flopping back into the backrest. "Blame it on the hormones. They're driving me crazy, I swear. Nausea one second, nymphomaniac in the next. The 7-11 guy one block down from my apartment is starting to look at me funny cos I buy so many batteries for my vibrator – oh shit!" She clapped her hand over her mouth. Did she just say vibrator?

Hotch coughed. She could tell he was trying to disguise his laughter. Yep, she did actually blurt that out. Groaning, she covered her face with her hands. "Just kill me now."

"No." He gently pulled her hands away from her face.

"Really, please, just kill me. You've got your Glock with you, right? It'll be much less painful and embarrassing."

"Why are you embarrassed? It's perfecty natural to feel the way you do." His voice was mild.

"Oh right. _You_ try feeling so frisky you could crawl out of your skin. I mean, I'm talking so horny I could practically jump Reid's bones." She watched his eyebrows lift. "Yeah, see?"

"All right, I can't imagine ever being so horny I'd go for Reid." Hotch paused. "Anderson though, is another story." He was completely straight-faced, except that his eyes were twinkling. "I mean, have you seen his glutes lately?"

Emily burst out laughing. "I know, right?" Yep, it was official. She had committed the ultimate sin in cheesiness. She had fallen in love with her supervisor. Hotch, in this teasing, almost tender mood was beyond adorable. What he said next made it even harder to resist him.

"You know, if you ever need a change from your vibrator, I'm available."

"Do. Not. Tempt me."

He smiled. "I'm serious. I mean, what more could happen. I've already made you pregnant. You might as well make some use of me."

Was he really serious? She narrowed her eyes. "You have no idea what you're offering. If I take you up on your offer, you'll more than likely end up a dry husk of a man. And then you won't be around for me to gloat and say I told you so."

He shifted closer. "I'm willing to take that chance if you are." His voice was low. Intimate.

Good God. Was he going to kiss her? In his office? She stared at him warily. "All right. Give it up. Who are you and what have you done with Aaron Hotchner?"

He chuckled, the sound sending shivers up her spine. For goodness sake Emily, get a freaking hold on yourself and your sex drive.

"Okay, you got me. I'm actually David Rossi. Hotch and I exchanged bodies after that very strange witch slash black magic practitioner cursed us in the last case."

"Dave? Out of the whole team you had to choose Dave? Eww... Dave trying to seduce me is just like... gross." She wrinkled her nose. "Way to kill the mood, Hotch."

"Damn. I was so close, too." He grimaced. "I'm not that great with jokes. They're not really my thing."

"You don't say," she replied dryly. He looked so chagrined that she couldn't help but tease him. "But I still want to get into your pants. And that's the truth."

His smile was tentative. She had to dig her fingers into her arms to stop herself from leaning over to kiss it.

"We make a pretty good team huh?"

He had to be referring to their 'teamwork' in bed. "At work too," replied Emily.

Hotch frowned. "Where else are we a team?" Light dawned on his face. "Oh. Yeah." His smile reappeared. "So, based on that, I think it's pretty safe to assume that we can be a team when it comes to the babies, don't you think?"

"I really hope so."

"It's you and it's me. I know so."

The conviction in his voice and eyes warmed her as nothing else could. She slipped her hand in his. "Okay then, teammate, let's give this a go."

His hand tightened around hers. "Lets." He looked at her.

She gave him a quizzical gaze. "What?"

"Do you think we could maybe be teammates with benefits?"

Emily shook her head as she stood up. "And I thought I was the one obssessed with sex. Come on, Casanova, let's go vote for Morgan's ass before everyone thinks we're having an extended orgy up here."

Hotch followed her out of his office. "Speak for yourself. I'm voting for Anderson."

"Because his ass is finer than Morgan's?"

They trooped down the stairs and Emily bit back a smile when she spied Reid staring wide-eyed at them.

"No," replied her Unit Chief. "So that he'll tell me how to get glutes like his."

"Oh honey, you don't need any advice. Your glutes are fine the way they are. Trust me."

"You remember them?" He looked amused. And rather pleased with himself.

Emily lowered her voice. "I definitely remember your ass." She paused for effect. "And how firm your glutes were when I spanked you."

"Oh hell no! There is no way Hotch is making this into a three-way contest," interrupted Morgan, looking outraged. Apparently he was more concerned about Hotch's ass entering the race than about the spanking.

Emily rolled her eyes at Reid. "For goodness sake, Morgan, Hotch isn't entering the contest, you idiot. Some people actually have some self-respect."

"Says the chick who's been doling out drunken ass spanking," called out Morgan.

"Can someone explain what drunken ass spanking is, and why you are all discussing it during work hours?" came a voice behind Hotch.

"Oh shit," muttered Morgan.

"Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse," whispered Reid loudly.

"Chief Strauss. We weren't expecting you back from New York till tomorrow," said Hotch, glaring at Morgan.

"The conference finished early. Well?" Strauss looked at Morgan expectantly.

"Erin. There you are!" Everyone in the BAU breathed a big sigh of relief when they heard another familiar voice. "Come with me," said Dave, "and I'll explain about all that." Taking her arm, he led her away. "Really, it means exactly what it says."

"I am still unsure why it is being discussed by the team," said Strauss, her voice starting to fade as they walked up the stairs. "In any case, do you mind if I check my email first? I want to see who won the Finest Ass award. I put a bet on Morgan yesterday and I'm going to be extremely annoyed if he's lost."

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><p><strong>Haha! I love writing out-of-character Strauss. Let me know if you enjoyed this chapter. Or even if you didn't! I'm working on Dark Duke, for those who are wondering, although don't expect anything for a while yet. I think it will be at least another chapter of 'A Convenient Arrangement' first. My muse is working overtime on this new fic, which I can't control!<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Oh my goodness, I am SO sorry it has taken me this long to update! Life has been crazy and I have been concentrating on finishing my other fic. So I am extremely sorry to all of you who are still following this fic.**

**I do promise to update this more regularly from now on. In the meantime, here's something very short just to tide you over till the next update. And please note that there are SERIOUSLY suggestive sexual comments in this chapter. Do not read if you are easily offended. I had a lot of fun writing this though, so there's probably something wrong with me! LOL. **

**Enjoy!**

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><p>Morgan threw his keys onto the coffee table and dumped his overnight bag in front of the fireplace. The team had the next three days off and in a rare moment of agreement, had decided to all chip in and rent a five bedroom house which was right on Bethany Beach. He had left D.C. early so that he could have the pick of the rooms. And if he got the only double room, well then, too bad for Hotch and Emily. You snooze, you lose, was his motto. Well, one of them anyway.<p>

After checking out the view of the beach from the mammoth glass doors that opened out onto the terrace, he headed down the corridor to find the kitchen. No one was going to arrive for at least another hour and he could do with a cold one before he staked his claim on the best room upstairs. He has just reached out to push open the double doors into what he assumed was the kitchen when a familiar male voice stopped him cold.

"Not so fast." His unit chief sounded harried, pressured. "Slower."

"Like this?" Emily's voice was seductive.

"That's good. Yeah, much better."

"I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."

"Whoa, whoa, too fast on the downstroke. Slower."

Morgan froze when a sound he could only describe as wet friction filled the silence. Surely they weren't…

"Wait." Hotch.

Morgan grimaced. Now what?

"We need more lubrication."

Shit, thought Morgan. It was like he had stepped into the Twilight Zone – porno edition.

"Won't it be too slippery?" Emily sounded breathless, almost excited.

"Slippery's good. Oh yeah, that's really going good now."

Silence. More friction. More talk of lubrication.

Morgan knew he should move, but his feet seemed paralysed. This was way too much for him to deal with. He really should just leave. As it was, he was going to need years of therapy to deal with this traumatic experience. He took a step backwards.

"Wait." Hotch's voice stopped him in his tracks.

Morgan heard footsteps in the kitchen. Hell, surely things couldn't get any worse.

"Here, try my sausage," said Hotch.

Yep, apparently it could. What the fuck, Hotch? Seriously man, that was just wrong. Who even says things like that?

"Oh my God." Emily moaned in ecstasy. "That tastes soooooo good. More."

"Easy." Hotch sounded amused. "It's big."

Emily chortled. "And hard."

"You think that's hard? I'll show you hard."

"Oooh, you're a dirty, dirty boy," teased Emily.

"Maybe I need to be punished." Now it was Hotch's turn to sound suggestive. "Did you bring the leather crop?"

"I sure did. And before you ask, yes, I brought the anal beads that you like."

Morgan choked on an inward breath and started coughing till his eyes watered. The next thing he knew, his team mates were standing in the doorway, laughing uproariously at him. They were also fully dressed. Hotch even had an apron on. Neither one looked like they had been engaging in any kind of sexual acts. Embarrassed at being caught out, he blurted out, "What the fuck, guys? What were you doing in there?"

"Making sausages," announced Emily. "We thought it would be great to have some homemade ones for the barbeque later." She raised her eyebrows. "What did you think we were doing?"

"I thought you were making sausages," said Morgan quickly.

"You did not," she retorted. "Come on, what did you really think we were doing?"

"Making sausages! Or some shit," he added, feeling stupid, but determined not to show it.

Emily grinned, slipping her arm around Hotch's waist and leaning into him. "You thought I was giving Hotch a hand job, didn't you?"

"I did not!" said Morgan indignantly. It was _exactly_ what he thought.

"Well, if you didn't, you were standing there an awful long time listening to us make sausages. Wasn't he, babe?"

"Two minutes at least," agreed Hotch. "If that's what you thought, you could at least have given us some privacy."

Morgan glared at his unit chief, who was obviously struggling to keep a straight face. "All right! All right! You got me, okay? It was hilarious, pulling one over on me. Not. When did you know I outside?"

Hotch walked over to the stove and took a frying pan off the heat. "Oh, about mid-way through. We heard you shuffling around out there."

A wave of relief swept through Morgan. "So, you were putting it on for me, then."

Emily laughed out loud. "Of course we were, you idiot," she said affectionately. "What, you think Hotch likes to be whipped?"

"No, I don't suppose he does," agreed Morgan, stepping into the kitchen. He watched as his supervisor walked to the other end of the kitchen to wash his hands. "The anal beads were overkill, though. I mean, seriously. I can't even imagine Hotch doing anything more adventurous than missionary."

Emily bit her lip, eyes sparkling. "Actually, the anal beads part was true." Her voice lowered. "He comes like a freight train when we use them. So I only pull them out – " she paused, giving him a suggestive wink, "on special occasions. You know, like weekend beach getaways." She grinned. "Hope you packed your ear plugs."

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><p><strong><strong>Disclaimer: I did get the idea from an episode of Jamie Oliver's Fight Club, so I can't claim all the credit. <strong>Don't forget to leave a review if you can! There should be some more of the whole team next chapter. We gotta keep teasing Morgan, right?**


	11. Chapter 11

**Here I am, trying to keep to my promise of updating more regularly. Thank you all so very much for nominating this story in the CM Profiler's Choice Awards. I am so happy that you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it. Here's more of the team!**

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><p>"Baby girl!"<p>

"Whoa!" Pen staggered backwards as Morgan pulled her into a big bear hug. "What's up my hunk of chocolate love?" Her voice was muffled against his chest. When he still hadn't released her ten seconds later (ten seconds was a hell of a long time – especially when she had both hands full of luggage and alcohol).

Her best friend finally straightened up, if somewhat reluctantly. "Holy shit, I am so glad to see you, you have no idea."

"O..kay." Pen shoved her bags at him. "Here, take these while you explain what's going on." She closed the car door and headed towards the opened front door. "What's wrong, has Emily been teasing you again?"

"Yes," he said, pursing his mouth as he followed her inside.

"Oh my God, Morgan," laughed Emily from the couch. "Are you actually pouting?"

"I do _not_ pout!" he retorted, shooting her a death glare, which she completely ignored.

"Oh yes you do," said Pen. "I mean, I love you to bytes, but you so do pout."

Morgan, put the bags down next to the couch. "When? When did I last pout? Huh? Huh?" he challenged.

"You mean not counting the one we saw three point seven five seconds ago?" interjected Reid, making Emily guffaw.

"Haha, good one, Dr Reid," said the slim brunette, winking at him.

"Thanks." Reid grinned back at her, ignoring Morgan's angry growl. "Well, let's see. You were pouting when JJ and I arrived an hour ago, because you found out that Emily and Hotch got the double room with the best view in the house. Then there was yesterday, when the final results of the firearm, tactics and hand-to-hand combat contest were posted and you came third."

"That was totally rigged!" said Morgan, looking furious. "I have never, ever, ever, come second, never mind third. There is no freaking way the top two results were DEA guys. Hell, I bet they were taking some of those steroids they recovered from that warehouse bust."

"Oh dear, Reid, did you have to bring that up?" Pen heaved a huge sigh, dropping down on the couch next to Emily. "Now we're going to hear about that for the next three days."

Reid looked gleeful. "And oh, how could I forget?" He paused. "Actually that's a rhetorical question, because I can never forget. The crowning glory? You pouted for like seven days straight when you – "

"Reid no!" shouted Emily, Pen and JJ at the same time.

But it was too late. Reid had already finished his sentence. "…when you found out Anderson beat you in the 'Best Butt in the BAU' contest."

The silence that followed that statement was so thick that Pen thought she could hear the seconds tick by on her smartphone. Oh shit, she thought when she saw the tips of Morgan's ears turn red.

"I. Did. Not. Lose. To. Anderson." The words came out between clenched teeth. "He totally cheated."

"He did?" JJ looked surprised. "How?"

"JJ!" hissed Pen. "Why are you riling the angry lion?"

"What?" said JJ, putting on her little orphan Annie hurt look. "I was just curious."

"You know very well that Anderson went around to everyone and gave them a cupcake in exchange for voting for him," snarled Morgan.

"Yeah, that was an ass-tounding effort and sweet assss…." chimed in Emily. "He is such a clever little butt..on."

"Oh, the double choc cupcake with the peanut butter icing was rear-ly, rear-ly good," said JJ, pointing to her bottom when she said 'rear', causing Emily to snicker. "And the raspberry one with the oozy white chocolate centre was ass-pecially good too."

"What the hell guys!" yelled Morgan just when Hotch walked into the living room, a beer in his hand. "You're supposed to be my friends, and you betray me over some stupid confectionary?!"

"I wasn't bribed by confectionary," volunteered Hotch, sitting down next to Emily. He smiled down at her before bending down to kiss her on her nose.

Pen's heart would have melted right at that moment except for the fact that her bff was currently glaring at her like he was Samson and she was Delilah – right after she had cut off his hair. "Babe! I voted for you! And I, too, like Hotch, was not bribed by cake." But oh man, had she been tempted. It had been that time of the month and she was so freeking close to dropping on her knees and worshipping at the altar of Anderson if only he could just give her a morsel, a teeny , tiny crumb of the double choc peanut butter icing topped piece of silver. She had finally known what Judas must have felt like when he betrayed Jesus. Although he was obviously much weaker than her cos he wasn't even on his period when he accepted the 30 pieces of silver.

Morgan looked slightly mollified. "Thank you, babycakes. And thanks boss."

"Oh." Hotch looked non-plussed. "Uh, I meant I wasn't bribed because there was no need to. I'd already voted for Anderson."

The other profiler's mouth dropped open and Pen saw Reid wince. "Wait, you mean you thought Anderson's ass was better than mine?"

Hotch paused. "I don't know if I really _thought_ about the subject in question, but objectively speaking, Anderson's appeared better."

"How the hell can Anderson's ass be better than this?" Morgan turned around and in front of all of them, let his jeans drop to his ankles.

Pen's jaw dropped open along with everyone's else's. Reid squeaked and covered his eyes with both hands.

"I mean, come on guys." Morgan slapped his butt cheeks and then squeezed them. "These are harder than steel. Seriously."

"_Holy Christ!" _

Everyone in the room jumped at Dave's loud exclamation. They looked up to see him standing in the doorway, bag in hand, looking flabbergasted.

"What the everlasting hell is going on here?!"

At that, the three women looked at each other and then simultaneously burst out laughing. They laughed even harder when Morgan suddenly jumped into action and pulled up his jeans so fast that he almost tripped.

"M-Mo-Morgan…w-was t-trying to show us the error of our ways w-when we v-voted for A-Anderson," gasped Emily, wiping the tears from her eyes. "That was very possibly the grossest thing I have ever seen."

"Hey, come on," said Pen, trying to defend the poor, battered and bruised ego of her friend. "It's a really nice ass, you gotta give him that."

"It may very well be," answered JJ. "But I couldn't quite tell seeing as I was totally distracted by the leopard print underwear."

"So true," agreed Emily. "But hey, it could have been worse. It could have been a g-string."

"Ewww." JJ made a face.

"I know, right? My morning sickness would have made an appearance for sure if Morgan had been wearing that."

A shocked silence followed and Emily clapped a hand to her mouth, eyes rounded. "Oh crap. I didn't mean for that to come out like it did." She looked at Hotch, whose eyebrows were only very slightly raised, while a smile played about his mouth. "I'm sorry."

He took her hand and brought it to his mouth for a kiss. "No need to apologise." He looked up at the team. "We were going to tell you this weekend anyhow. So we're expecting um…" he smiled. "Well, triplets."

"Oh my GOODNESS!" squealed Pen, throwing her arms around her girlfriend. "TRIPLETS! That is so freaking amazing!"

JJ ran over and joined in the hug, while Dave came over and pumped Hotch's hand heartily.

"Triplets! You close-mouthed son of a gun. Oh should I say fertile son of a gun," said Dave, grinning from ear-to-ear. "I can't be happier for the both of you." He kissed Emily on the cheek. "Congratulations. You are both going to make great parents."

"And we're all going to be godparents, right?" Pen winked at Emily, who grinned back at her.

"Fo' sure! Well." The brunette profiler hedged when Morgan came and gave her a reluctant hug, obviously still a little put out by her earlier teasing. "I don't know if my innocent little babies can have a godparent who wears leopard print underwear."

"Give me a break," groaned Morgan. "I didn't get a chance to do my laundry last week. This are my last pair of jocks."

"Umm… so what were you planning to wear tomorrow?" asked JJ, narrowing her eyes at him.

"I have my trunks for going to the beach, and after, I was just going to go commando." He shrugged.

"The only thing I'm going to say about that is we are so not sharing a room," said Dave.

"What? You think you're so attractive that if I go without underpants I'm going to be overcome with lust and jump your old bones?"

Dave shrugged, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to the bar next to the entertainment unit. "It's happened before."

"_What?"_ Morgan flung himself down on an armchair. "You are such a liar, Rossi."

"Okay, okay," interjected Hotch, his tone mild. "Let's not get into a fight about Rossi's possible non-consensual sexual encounter. And seriously, Morgan, have you ever heard of something called a store? You can even buy underwear there. Just keep that in mind for next time. The thought of you kicking a door down sans underwear doesn't even bear thinking about."

Pen bit her lip hard to stop herself from laughing when her supervisor actually shuddered. It was then that she realised Reid had been silent all this time. "Reid? Are you all right?"

Everyone's eyes shot over to their resident genius who was still seated on one of the armchairs. He hadn't moved at all since Morgan dropped his pants.

"Yes," answered the doctor, voice slightly muffled by his hands. "Is it over? Is Morgan dressed? Cos I really want to take my hands away from my eyes and congratulate Emily and Hotch. But I also really, really, _really_, don't want to see Morgan's rear end again. It'll just be embarrassing to have to go back to seeing the psychologist."

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><p><strong>It would be awesome if you can send me a review. Thanks again for nominating this fic. I hope that you can vote for it in the final ballot if you think it worthy! <strong>


	12. The Christmas Eve eve dinner

**This is the Christmas chapter, and it's turned out to be more romantic than funny. I hope you don't mind. Because if warm fuzziness isn't appropriate for the holidays, I don't know when it is. This chapter is dedicated to all my loyal readers out there. Thank you so much for reading my fics throughout the year and for sending me your reviews. You have truly touched my heart. It has been a pleasure entertaining you, and I am so happy that you have all enjoyed My Dark Duke. Here's to more and hopefully bigger and better stories in 2014! **

**I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

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><p>"Emily?" Hotch's voice was muffled through the door.<p>

"Come in, the door's open!" Emily called out as she opened the oven door. The delicious fragrance of freshly baked gingerbread greeted her and she couldn't help but smile at the little brown figures on the baking tray.

"Something smells good."

After carefully setting the tray down on top of the kitchen counter, she turned to greet him, smiling when he bent to kissed her lips sweetly.

"Hi." His smile was broad, and the warmth in his eyes made her heart skip a beat. Sure, they had really only been seeing each other for three months, but it wasn't like she was some young, wide-eyed girl. She'd known him for years, and more importantly, she was carrying his children. Three of them, for goodness sake.

"Hi," she replied, a little breathlessly, more a result of his proximity than the frenzy of cooking she had crazily decided to undertake. "I know, the gingerbread men smell awesome, don't they? And look how gorgeous they are!" She turned back to admire her efforts. They were definitely some of her best work. Uniformly perfect, they stood in military straight rows on the tray.

"Definitely gorgeous," he agreed. When Emily turned back to face him, though, she found that he was looking at her, his gaze frankly admiring.

She felt her cheeks heat and she shook her head at him. "I am not gorgeous, and you know it. I've been cooking for hours and I know for a fact that my face is shinier than a glazed donut and my hair is frizzy beyond all recognition."

Hotch turned her around and took off her oven mitts before pulling her gently toward him. "No one's allowed to say anything bad about the mother of my children, and that includes you," he said mock sternly. "Besides," he smiled, "I like glazed donuts. A lot."

"Mm hmm." She tried to give him a disbelieving look, but couldn't resist smiling back at him. Who could resist a smiling Hotch? Not her. Hell, she couldn't even resist an angry, frowning Hotch, so really, she was just a plain old marshmallow when it came to him. One look and she immediately became a huge, gooey mess. It was pathetic.

"I think you are beautiful, and you know I'm telling you the truth because I obviously can't keep my hands off you," he murmured. "Like last night, for instance."

Emily's smile widened and she slipped her arms around his neck. "Remind me again, what happened last night? You know, with my almost-mummy brain and all."

His eyes were knowing, and a familiar glint appeared in them, making her insides melt, just like she had predicted. "Well, I think it all began when I opened the front door and found you wearing nothing but a fur coat."

"Faux fur," she corrected, grinning wickedly when she felt his body responding. She squirmed a little in his embrace, feeling her temperature rise. Her horny pregnancy hormones were still in full force, and she would have been embarrassed by how much sex she wanted to have, if it weren't for his whole-hearted enthusiasm in meeting her needs. Of course, he got to get his rocks off too, so at least she didn't have to worry that he was just being polite and gentlemanly. Actually, that wasn't far from the truth. He _always_ made sure the lady came first. And second and third and fourth. God, she was a nympho.

"What is it?" asked Hotch. "What are you thinking?"

Her smile was wry. "I give you one guess."

He chuckled, eyebrows lifting when she reached between them and started to unbutton his jeans. "Really? Now?"

She stepped back and quickly pushed her leggings and panties off while her mind ran rapidly through what she still had to do before their guests arrived. "I have eight minutes max before I need to take my rudolf pie out of the oven."

Hotch blinked but obediently backed up when she pushed him back gently until he was seated on one of the chairs around the breakfast table. "You cooked rudolf?"

She frowned at him even as she straddled him. "Of course I didn't cook rudolf. It's a Christmas shepherd's pie."

"I see." He hissed out a breath when she touched him. "That's good to know. Because I don't think I can make love to a woman who's just put my favourite reindeer into a pie." His voice had become huskier as she continued her ministrations.

"Well, Rudolf's not my favourite reindeer," said Emily, shuddering as his hands performed their familiar magic upon her.

"Who is? Prancer, Dasher, Donner?" he asked, his hands tightening on her waist as she began to move on him. "It's got to be Blitzen," he said, shooting her a grin.

"I'll give you a hint. I'm riding him right now."

Hotch made a sound midway between a laugh and a groan. "I'm a reindeer?"

"You're _my_ reindeer," she said, breathless now for another reason. "And I can tell you one thing. What you have is _sooooooooo_ much freaking better than a glowing red nose."

He was laughing so hard that she finally had to kiss him to shut him up.

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><p>"Hey, Hotch! Congratulations, man." Hotch smiled bemusedly as Morgan grabbed his hand and pumped it. "Eight minutes, huh? That's a new record, unit chief."<p>

"Pardon?" Hotch felt his cheeks burn. What the hell? How did his subordinate know about what happened in the kitchen?

Morgan shot him a strange look. "The training exercise this morning. You completed the circuit and neutralised the targets in eight minutes. You even beat my personal best. Well done."

"Oh." He gave Morgan a weak smile. "Thanks."

Morgan arched his brows. "Why? What did you think I was talking about?"

Hotch shook his head. "Nothing. I was a bit distracted."

Morgan nodded. "Who can blame you? Dating Prentiss, triplets on the way, buying a new house, dating Prentiss." He grinned mischievously. "How's that going?"

"Fine." Hotch made his answer short, his tone inviting no further questions.

"It must be going well, judging by the smile on Emily's face," interrupted a familiar voice.

The two men turned to see Dave, who was busy hanging up his coat and scarf. After they shook hands and Hotch poured the newcomer a scotch, the trio sat down on the couch and armchairs that surrounded the tv.

"So," said Dave, eyeing his friend. "As I was saying, Emily's looking well."

"She is. She had her check-up yesterday and everything's on track."

Dave nodded. "I'm glad that it's all working out for the both of you."

Hotch sighed. "Yeah. We had no idea whether we'd, you know, be able to be more than colleagues, so what's happened has surprised us both. In a good way, of course."

"We're really happy for you," added Morgan, looking serious for once.

"Thanks, Morgan. It means a lot to us." Us, thought Hotch, turning the word over in his mind. That was what he and Emily was, an 'us'. It sounded right. More importantly, it felt right.

"Hey guys, you're all looking way too serious for a Christmas Eve eve dinner."

Hotch looked up to see the woman whom they were discussing come up and sit down next to him. She immediately snuggled up against him and he couldn't help the smile that started to form. In fact, his mouth had started to curve the moment he had heard her voice. He didn't know why he had been so blind not to have seen how perfect she was for him before that fateful night. But it didn't matter. He had her now. And conversely, he was hers. He hadn't asked her to marry him yet; he was waiting for just the right time, but he somehow knew that she felt the same way about him. The light that he saw in her eyes whenever she looked at him told him so. His arm tightened around her and she looked up at him, a question in her eyes. He just smiled at her, and she returned his smile, reassured.

"So, Emily. Tell us that Hotch has been helping you out with the cooking." Dave looked at her. "Otherwise I'm going to have to kick his butt."

"Woo. I'd pay to see that," said Morgan, laughing.

Emily rolled her eyes. "You'd pay to see anything. JJ and I made a killing when you paid for the privilege of watching us kiss."

Morgan grinned. "Best four hundred bucks I'd ever spent."

Hotch straightened. "What? When did this happen?" He frowned at the brunette by his side.

"Settle down, honey. It was only a peck. We would've included some tongue for the same price, but Morgan was a pathetic negotiator." Emily shrugged.

"What!" Her team-mate looked outraged. "Come on, that's not fair," he moaned. "Hey, JJ's coming for dinner without Will, right? I'll give you another two hundred to French kiss."

Before Hotch could answer, Emily shook her head. "Nah, that was when I was single. And drunk. And poor JJ was off-her-face drunk. I only kiss one person nowadays. And he's a pretty damn good kisser." She gave Hotch a wink and he shook his head ruefully at her. If they had been alone he would have hauled her to him to remind her just how good a kisser he was. "And Dave," she continued, "Hotch was _very_ helpful in the kitchen." She emphasised the word very, and Hotch tried his best to look his usual impassive self. "I was really demanding and rode him hard, but he just kept his head down and did what he was told. Just like a really good reindeer."

Hotch cleared his throat when the other two men looked puzzled. He glared at the dark-haired vixen, his eyes promising retribution. She merely bit her lip and tried not to smile.

"I'm going to go get us the cranberry and soy sticky sausages to nibble on while we wait for the others to arrive." Emily started to get up, but Hotch held her back.

"Stay here, I'll get them." He leaned close to her ear and said softly, "You are so getting a spanking tonight."

"Ooh." She grinned up at him. "Am I on your naughty list, Santa?"

"You sure are," he murmured. Hotch glanced up, relieved to find Morgan and Dave talking. He turned back to Emily. Still keeping his voice low, he said, "But if you're lucky, I might give you a chance to get back on my nice list."

She pouted. "But nice girls are boring."

"Well, I'm definitely the luckiest guy on earth because you're the best combination of naughty and nice."

Emily smiled, looking mightily pleased with herself. "Really?"

"Really." A thought struck him and he just stopped himself from laughing. He put his mouth to her ear again. "Just prepare yourself. Because after I make my list, I'm shagging you twice, gonna find out if you're naughty or nice, then Santa Clause is _coming_ to town."

Hotch stood up and walked towards the kitchen, a wide grin on his face as Emily collapsed on the sofa, howling with laughter.

* * *

><p>"<em>Oh my God!<em> I've created a monster," said Emily, still laughing when the buzzer sounded.

"I'll let the guys in," volunteered Morgan, still looking bemused at the sight of his colleague with tears of laughter in her eyes.

As soon as Pen, JJ and Reid entered, there came a flurry of hugs and kisses and the handing over of gifts. Reid joined the other men who had re-seated themselves on the sofa while the females went into the kitchen to unpack the food that Pen and JJ had brought.

"Oh JJ, these are just adorable!" exclaimed Emily when she opened the Tupperware container which contained tiny little chocolate cupcakes decorated with melted chocolate and topped with golden stars. "Did they take long to do?"

"The decorating took a little bit of time, but only because they're so small. I didn't mind, though. I love my boys to bits, but it's been nice having a bit of time to myself."

"They're coming back from Will's parents tomorrow, aren't they?" asked Emily, popping a cupcake into her mouth, closing her eyes at the explosion of chocolate.

"Yep. If our case hadn't held us up I'd be there with them too. There wasn't much point going for just a night. What about Jack? Is he with Haley's parents?"

Emily nodded. "We're picking him up from the airport tomorrow. He's having an early Christmas with them, which has been really nice for all three of them." She looked at Pen. "What did you bring, gorgeous?"

"So, at the risk of exposing myself to SSA Rossi's criticism, I have made a double layered panettone and ricotta pudding." Pen lifted off the lid to her creation with a flourish.

"Wow! Well done Pen!" exclaimed JJ as they stared at the bowl-shaped dessert. "Just tell me you haven't put any tofu in it," she teased.

Emily laughed as Pen gave JJ a mock glare. "I have not," she protested. And then she grinned. "Well, I did think of it, but hey, it's Christmas. I think we can be naughty just a little bit."

"Ooh." Emily went still, putting her hand on her the gentle swell of her stomach. "I think the babies are showing their approval of their Aunty Jen's cupcake."

"Aww, honey, that is so sweet." Pen came and gave her a hug and rubbed her belly. "I can't even tell you how happy I am for you and Hotch."

"Me too," said JJ. "What I want to know though, is when he's going to propose."

"What?" laughed Emily. "We've barely been dating and you're marrying us off already?"

"Umm… I think you've already skipped a couple of steps," interjected Pen, giving Emily's tummy a pointed look.

Emily rolled her eyes as she took a sip of her sparkling apple juice. "I don't want Hotch to propose just because I was drunk and slutty and he just happened to be in the right place at the right time." She frowned. "Or the wrong place at the wrong time."

Pen grinned, mischief obvious in her gleeful expression. "Oh, judging by the fact that he's looking at you like you are the angel on top of his Christmas tree, I'd say you're safe."

JJ hooted with laughter at the double entendre while Emily groaned loudly. "No more Christmas sexual innuendo, please, I'm begging you."

"What do you mean?" asked Pen, looking at her with innocent, wide eyes. "That was my first."

"Yeah, that was at least the third of the night for me. And they didn't even come from Morgan."

JJ snickered as she popped a peanut into her mouth and chewed. "I'm so tempted right now to ask what the other ones are, but I'll restrain myself. Someone has to be a lady around here."

Emily snorted. "Lady, my ass. Like you won't be riding your own Yule log tomorrow night after you've tucked Henry into bed."

JJ gasped, going bright red while Pen giggled helplessly.

"Hey ladies!" hollered Morgan. "When can we eat? We're starving over here."

"Five minutes!" Emily yelled back. "Pen, can you get the salad and JJ, the anchovy and parmesan cheese toasts. I'll get the rudolf pie."

Pen opened her mouth.

Emily silenced her with one look. "Don't even start. Hotch already beat you to it."

Her friend's eyebrows lifted. "What did he say?"

The brunette SSA winked. "Not much after I blew his mind."

* * *

><p>Dinner was a success despite the ribbing Emily received as a result of her rudolf pie, but she was ultimately vindicated when everyone had seconds because it tasted so good. Then came the exchange of gifts, where the recipient of each team member's gift had been drawn out of a hat a fortnight ago. Pen was stoked with her complete set of Game of Thrones Lego minifigures, or Throne of Bricks, as they were correctly called. Both Reid and JJ coincidentally received kindle e-readers, although each was preloaded with vastly different reading material. Dave was over the moon with his vintage Royal Quiet Deluxe typewriter which was apparently the same model as the one Hemingway used. Hotch was given a pile of books for expectant fathers which he accepted with good grace. Morgan received an electronic butt toning device, which sent everyone into fits of laughter – and which no one claimed credit for. To say he was not impressed was an understatement.<p>

It was Emily's turn last and she opened the silver and gold wrapped medium sized box with anticipation. Her eagerness turned into a frown as she pulled out more and more crumpled up brown paper. "If this is a gag gift, guys, I am not going to be happy." The box was extremely light, so it was completely possible that there was nothing in there.

And then she saw the small dark blue box and stopped breathing.

With trembling fingers she took the box out and looked up at Hotch, who was watching her with an unwavering gaze. The room was completely silent and the air heavy with expectation. Hotch reached across and took the box from her suddenly nerveless hands and opened it.

Emily gasped. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Even under the subdued lighting, the princess-cut diamond shimmered and shone its rainbow hues, accentuated by a platinum band studded with small, round, brilliant-cut diamonds. She sat in stunned silence as Hotch removed the ring and, pushing his chair back, went down on one knee.

He looked up into her eyes, the intensity in his making her heart race. "Emily Prentiss, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? And yes," he admitted, "of course I want to marry you so that I can take care of you and the babies, and make sure that none of you could ever want for anything." Her heart clenched at that statement. He knew that it would have been her first thought, and had addressed it first. "But most of all, I want to marry you because I love you. You are my everything. You are all my Christmases to come." His voice had been deep and strong and sure until that last sentence, and the slight unsteadiness there told her of the strength of his emotions that he was holding in check.

She looked into his dear, familiar face and the love that blazed from his dark eyes and suddenly, all the anxiety and nerves disappeared. In the end it was the easiest decision she had ever made. "I love you, too. Yes," she said simply.

And as his mouth claimed hers amid the cheering and whistling of their dearest friends, she knew, even if she had not experienced the joy that filled her to overflowing, that this Christmas was going to be one that she would remember for the rest of their lives.

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><p><strong>Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to my dearest readers. I hope the coming year is one that is filled with happiness, good health and prosperity for you all!<strong>


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